


Heart of the Tiger

by syrenpan



Series: Tales of the Tiger [3]
Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins, Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening
Genre: Angst, Drama, Fenders, Franco (OC) - Freeform, M/M, Memory Loss, Paola (OC) - Freeform, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-28
Updated: 2016-05-12
Packaged: 2018-02-23 00:07:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 41,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2526689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/syrenpan/pseuds/syrenpan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Immediately after the events of 'Eye of the Tiger,' Anders and Fenris have to face the consequences of their actions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The First Day

**Author's Note:**

> Dragon Age (c) Bioware. No copyright infringement intended.
> 
> Head-canon timeline: 
> 
> Early in 9:31 maybe a month after the archdemon is slain, Anders is made a Warden and shortly after the events in Awakening, joins with Justice. He arrives in Kirkwall only a few weeks later where he meets Hawke and his friends, among them a ridiculously handsome ex-slave. Anders accompanies Hawke into the deep roads. 
> 
> 9:36 Anders and Fenris start their relationship, 'Face the Tiger' is set in the same year which means they depart before Anders can blow up the chantry. 
> 
> 9:39 'Eye of the Tiger' is set in this year. 'Heart of the Tiger' starts.

‘What do you mean?’  
  
Anders paused as he stepped back into his trousers and looked at the elf, a bit stunned by the question.  
  
‘Err, your name? I was asking because, well, or unless of course you don’t want to give me your name which is all good by me since you obviously took care of me and maybe your people don’t do names. That’s what you did, right? I mean I woke up in a bed, mostly clothed and not tied to anything, so I assume...’  
  
‘Fenris.’ The warrior heard himself reply which stopped Anders in mid-babble. Dread was creeping up Fenris’ spine as he looked at his lover fumbling through their conversation as if...  
  
Anders pulled his tunic over his head as he said, ‘Well met. Now, ahem, I should probably thank you for, well, you said you carried me here? So as I was asking earlier: where is _here_ exactly?’  
  
As if they were strangers.  
  
‘You...,’ Fenris began and stopped. Panic was fighting for the upper hand. He took a deep breath in an effort to calm himself.  
  
‘Am I scaring you ?’ Anders asked his voice calm but his friendly smile seemed to try to crawl away from him. ‘I swear I mean you no harm,’ he added quickly as the question had seemed to only fuel the elf’s fear. He was pointedly not looking at his coat, adorned with feathery pauldrons which lay only two feet away from them on the wet grass.  
  
‘I don’t. I mean I’m not afraid. Not of you, mage.’ Mage? He hadn’t called Anders that in years. This was not happening, he needed to calm down or he would do something that would almost certainly freak Anders out like scream. He wanted to scream.  
  
‘Ah, so you do know what I am, that’s a relief. Because usually that’s the moment when people come after me with pointy things and call for the templars, very loudly I might add.’ Anders said with feint mirth. He walked over to his coat, slipped it on and closed the buckles.  
  
‘You don’t remember anything?’ Fenris asked and dreading the answer.  
  
It seemed he wasn’t the only one though. Fenris noticed the tensing of the man’s shoulders as his lover took his time to put on his boots, stalling to avoid having to face the obvious.  
  
When the blonde man finally dared to look up, his smile had given up all pretence. ‘I should go.’  
  
Fenris eyes widened, ‘What? No.’ He rushed forward only to stop dead as Anders’ hand twitched. The lyrium brands pulsed as an answering call to the summoning of mana.  
  
‘I don’t want to hurt you.’ Anders said quickly, his hand raised in a defensive gesture, ice crystals dancing around his palm.  
  
‘Yes, I can see that,’ Fenris snarled back, bewildered and angry. Why was this happening? Two days ago they had been kissing on this very spot.  
  
~*~  
  
 _‘It’ll be three years tomorrow,’ Anders said smiling softly as he wrapped his arms around Fenris to pull him into a tight embrace._  
  
 _Fenris pressed his lips to Anders’._  
  
 _A little over three years ago Anders had turned up at his rightfully appropriated mansion in Hightown. It had been the day they had slain Danarius._  
  
 _Anders had been there, had fought alongside him, bled for him, only to accuse him of jealousy when they had learned that Varania was also a mage._  
  
 _Hawke had yelled at Anders to get the fuck out of the ‘Hanged Man’ which he did, barely containing the demon inside him. In the end Fenris had let his sister go and had fled to his mansion._  
  
 _He had thought once his former master lay dead, it would all go away: the pain, the fear, the hate, only to find that nothing had changed._  
  
 _Hawke had dropped by that night. The rogue had tried her best to console him but it had been no use, so she too had left Fenris to brood._  
  
 _Wavering between anger and dread, Fenris had been surprised to find another late night visitor at his doorstep._  
  
‘What do you want, mage?’ Fenris snarled, pacing restlessly in front of the fire in his bedroom.  
  
‘I came to apologise,’ Anders replied softly, deflating Fenris’ rightful anger which somehow made it worse.  
  
‘If you’re looking for absolution, you came to the wrong place. Get out!’  
  
‘Stop, just stop,’ Anders pleaded. Fenris glared at the intruder but he stopped his pacing.  
  
‘I shouldn’t have said what I said. She betrayed you and you had no idea who or what she was. I... I guess I am just so... Varric told me you let her go. How... I mean you must feel...’ Anders faltered.  
  
‘What’s it to you, mage?’ Fenris practically spat the last word. ‘All my life, all my life your kind has tormented me and even in death he still haunts me. I can’t shake it. I just can’t!’  
  
‘I know,’ Anders replied quietly. ‘It consumes every fibre of your soul everything you are, the hatred burns it away and leaves nothing.’  
  
‘Don’t you dare! Don’t you dare pretend to understand me. You understand nothing.’  
  
‘I shouldn’t have come.’ Anders mumbled and made to leave, turning his back on Fenris. It stung like a slap to the face.  
  
In a flash Fenris was on Anders, pressing him face first into the cold wall next to the open door. ‘Why did you come?’ Fenris hissed into the blonde man’s ear.  
  
Anders didn’t struggle if anything he seemed to relax into Fenris’ hold.  
  
‘I felt like an idiot after what I said at the ‘Hanged Man,’ especially after Varric told me you let her go. I’m afraid. I’m afraid I will lose myself in vengeance and I won’t be able to stop myself. If Hawke hadn’t sent me away I might have killed you today.’  
  
‘You might have tried to kill me,’ Fenris replied coolly. ‘I will ask one more time, why are you here?’  
  
‘I don’t know,’ Anders replied quietly. ‘I don’t know.’  
  
Fenris felt Anders shake in his grip, he turned him around and pinned him  to the wall by the shoulders.  
  
Anders looked at him then and Fenris had to look away. No, he didn’t want to see it. The past five years he has fought to not see this.  
  
‘You are nothing like me.’ Fenris hissed as if it made it any less true. ‘You are everything I hate in this world.’  
  
‘Then kill me.’  
  
Fenris mouth dropped open.  
  
Anders hands were suddenly around Fenris’ wrists. One hand placing the elf’s over his heart. ‘Right here. Do it.’  
  
Fenris’ brands lit up.  
  
‘All I ever wanted was to be free.’ Anders whispered quietly and closed his eyes.  
  
Fenris smashed his fist into the wall next to Anders’ head. The mage opened his eyes when he felt Fenris’ forehead touching his chest. A sob that he had tried to hold in eventually escaped Anders as he simply stood, resting his back against his wall while Fenris leaned against him.  
  
‘I hate you,’ Fenris whispered.  
  
‘I know,’ Anders replied.  
   
Fenris looked up at him then and kissed him for the first time.  
  
 _Three years later on the evening before their anniversary, Anders confessed, ‘I was terrified I would kill you one day.’_  
  
 _Fenris lifted his head from Anders’ chest where had been enjoying his afterglow. ‘I keep telling you that you would have only succeeded in trying.’_  
  
 _‘I’m serious.’ Anders grumbled back._  
  
 _Fenris sighed. 'Must we talk about this now?’_  
  
 _‘Yes, we must.’_  
  
 _‘Hn,’ Fenris huffed. ‘ You wouldn’t have killed me. You were already in love with me.’_  
  
 _‘I was.’_  
  
 _‘Really?’ Fenris quirked an eyebrow._  
  
 _‘Yes,’ Anders smiled._  
  
 _‘I thought you said I frustrated you every minute of every hour of every day.’_  
  
 _‘Maker yes, you really did. But you were still hot as hell and it wasn’t as if you didn’t have good reasons for your anger. I just wanted you to admit that I had a point as well.’_  
  
 _Fenris knew that this was dangerous. If they continued they would soon spend the rest of the night arguing over the rights of mages and he really wasn’t in the mood._  
  
 _Change of tactics, he had learned that from his lover who was champion in avoiding ‘things I do not want to deal with right now.’_  
  
 _Fenris rolled to his side and pulled Anders with him until they had reversed their positions._  
  
 _‘I know what you’re doing.’ Anders said but couldn’t quite keep the scowl in place._  
  
 _‘So about that surprise you promised me for tomorrow,’ Fenris started wrapping his legs around Anders’ waist in the process._  
  
 _‘You’ll simply have to wait until tomorrow,’ Anders replied, mage argument thankfully forgotten for the moment._  
  
 _‘Not even a hint?’ Fenris asked slyly while doing his best to grind against his lover._  
  
 _Anders tried to bite back a moan and failed._  
  
 _‘Maker’s breath, you will be the death of me, elf. How about I make the time pass faster by fucking you until you scream my name instead?’_  
  
 _‘Works for me.’_  
  
~*~  
  
‘Look, I just want to go my way. The templars will come looking for me soon and I would rather be a long way off. I don’t want to cause any trouble for you. If they figure you’ve been helping an apostate, you are in for a world of sodding hurt. So, no offence my friend, but this is good-bye.’  
  
Anders summoned a cone of cold in an attempt to trap Fenris in a wall of ice only to find a blue, ghost-like apparition to appear right in front of him, grabbing him by the pauldrons and throwing him into the brook.  
  
Spluttering Anders surfaced but before he could get his bearings, the glowing elf was on top of him, dragging him up by his collar and dropping him on the grass.  
  
‘Listen to me,’ Fenris said urgently. ‘There are no templars here and no Wardens for that matter.’  
  
‘How do you...’  
  
Fenris silenced him with a gesture. ‘What year is it?’  
  
‘What year?’  
  
The elf was still faintly glowing. ‘Maker, is that _lyrium_?’  
  
‘Answer the question!’ Fenris shouted.  
  
‘Dragon 31 of course.’  
  
Anders fell back on the grass as the other abruptly let him go as if he his coat was on fire. Fenris was looking at him in shear terror.  
  
‘Or maybe 32? Don’t tell me I missed the Saturnalia party?’ Anders quipped, hoping it would serve as the distraction he needed.  
  
And it worked, suddenly the elf was sitting in his lap cradling his face in those lyrium adorned hands, murmuring a curse in what sounded like Tevene.  
  
It was all Anders needed to unleash mind blast. The hands let go of his face as the white haired elf slumped off him and slowly toppled sideways onto the grass.  
  
‘Sorry, my friend,’ was all Anders said before he ran off into the forest. 


	2. Free At Last

The first thing Anders noticed as he ran through the woods was the distinct absence of wet dog smell. The second thing he noticed was that the fauna didn’t even remotely resemble anything he would label as common.  
  
Come to think of it, the birds in Ferelden didn’t sound like this either. More of the caw-caw variety and less of a pleasant tweet-tweet like the birds in this place.  
  
‘Anders, old chap, I think we’re not in Ferelden any more,’ he remarked out loud as he stopped in a small clearing to catch his breath.  
  
He doubted that the elf had recovered from mind blast yet so he permitted himself to sit on a nearby tree stump to take stock.  
  
Alright, what did he know?  
  
His name was Anders, he was, correction, used to be a mage of the Ferelden Circle, a Grey Warden and probably on the run from both which technically made him an apostate and a deserter?  
  
Was that right? Did they brand you a deserter when you opted out of jaunty picnics in the Deep Roads with occasional darkspawn slaying?  
  
‘You know what, I’m not sure,’ Anders admitted out loud.  
  
Maybe you could just leave the club? Well, that club at any rate. Outrunning the mage thing, well, wasn’t that what had gotten him a membership in the forever tainted league in the first place? And the taint, well, that one stuck with you for life.  
  
As did the whole being a mage thing, even when you joined the Grey Wardens. Anders remembered a face, a man, a templar in the ranks. Allegedly a concession by the templar order to support efforts to restock Grey Warden numbers in Ferelden after King Alistair had officially giving Amaranthine to the Wardens but Anders had seen the truth: Rolan had been sent to keep taps on him.  
  
Anders had escaped them one final time by being conscripted into the ranks of the Grey by Sereda Aeducan, elder sister to the King of Orzammar, Hero of the Fifth Blight and Warden Commander of Ferelden.  
  
It had hurt their pride and sending Rolan had been a clear message to the Wardens and the King that the templar order was not to be underestimated. Power hungry sods, the lot of them!  
  
Bile rose in Anders’ throat as the man’s face danced across his inner eye. That arsehole had been on Anders’ case from the moment he had crossed the Keep’s threshold. He couldn’t take a piss without Rolan standing behind him, short of demanding to hold Anders’ dick lest he spread blood magic with his “magic wand”.  
  
They had been fielded together on every assignment. It had been too much.  
  
The sounds of the forest around him became distractedly louder as he remembered another forest, not like this one, darker, older, colder.  
  
 _Justice_.  
  
Pain struck him like lightning. Clutching his head, Anders slid off the tree stump and sank to his knees. He tried to tap into the Fade to channel the cooling touch of spirit magic into himself but just as fast as it had started, the pain disappeared again.  
  
‘Well, that was odd,’ Anders said, his voice shaking.  
  
Like any patient with a sore wound, Anders immediately tried to pick at the memory again but already he could feel edges of the pain ebbing back.  
  
‘Okay, not touching that for now,’ Anders admonished himself.  
  
What else was there?  
  
He had somehow travelled from Ferelden all the way to wherever here was but how much time had passed?  
  
The elf had asked him specifically about the year. What year?  
  
Maker, what did that imply?  
  
Anders looked at his hands. They looked like his hands, sure enough, although...  
  
He touched his face - he needed to shave, badly. It was hard to tell just by feeling whether it had changed. Blast, where was a mirror when you needed it most?  
  
How much time had passed? No, answer to that right now. What else?  
  
Blood.  
  
The elf had said something about blood and true enough his clothes had been soaked in places - but that was nothing new to a Deep Roads veteran, and he had been alive and felt fine. So, no worries, right?  
  
Too many questions and not enough answers. Maybe he shouldn’t have run from the elf. Maybe the answers he was looking for were inside that snowy-white head lying next to a brook.  
  
Damnation, he had acted on impulse. Run or be caught! He was an apostate after all that much was clear and no matter how far away he was from Ferelden the templars were not exactly known for their relaxed approach to catching their escaped mages. Trifling things such as boarders did not concern the Chantry‘s bloodhounds.  
  
Besides the elf had been so... so aggressive, not hostile as such just intimidating. And capable, very capable of holding his own in a fight as he had demonstrated. Anders had never seen the likes of it. Probably to do with the lyrium in his skin.  
  
Who had ever heard of lyrium tattoos, shouldn’t that kill him? The elf had looked a bit Dalish. Did the Dalish do that to their own?  
  
Too many questions again, and none pertinent to his current situation.  
  
Going back was out of the question. If the elf had had any friendly inclinations toward him, he sure as hell had burned that bridge when he had knocked him out.  
  
So, where did that leave Anders?  
  
He had no staff, no provisions, no coin, no idea where and quite possibly when he was.  
  
Terrific.  
  
What he did have however were his clothes, incredible charm, and he had his freedom.  
  
Freedom - at long last, for now at least. Feeling almost giddy at the prospect of living as a free man, Anders started to giggle.  
  
‘All right, enough!’ He said sternly to calm himself down.  
  
The most important thing now was to find shelter, a town, a village or even a travellers’ inn would do. He didn’t even look too much like a mage without his staff. Maybe he could try the old ‘actor robbed while rehearsing a play story.’ It had always worked in the good old days.  
  
‘Oh yeah, which days would that be?’ A sarcastic voice in his head asked.  
  
‘Shut up, you’re not helping,’ Anders murmured out loud and stopped, shaking his head.  
  
‘Maker’s breath, I have been on my own for 10 minutes and already I am talking to myself. Only crazy people do that!’ Anders proclaimed firmly to silence his inner critic.    
  
Now, where to go?  
  
People settled near sources of water. Surely that brook he had bathed in earlier couldn’t be too far away? He had run downstream-ish, so finding it again and then following it further downstream would be his best bet.  
  
Alright, he had a plan.  
  
Anders got back on his feet, brushed leaves and twigs off his clothes and continued to jog into the woods each step taking him further away from his past.


	3. Oathkeeper

The sun had past its zenith by the time Fenris regained consciousness. He bolted upright and regretted it instantly. Bright sparks flashed in front of his eyes no matter whether he closed them or not.  
  
‘Anders...,’ Fenris groaned before his body started to convulse. Thankfully, there had been nothing in his stomach to begin with.  
  
Nauseated and exhausted Fenris tried again to get back on his feet. He stumbled a few paces and through the open door of their home.  
  
Taking in deep breath through his nose, Fenris fought to regain control of his body. He had been hit with mind blast before - a spell that nearly all mages knew. It was a last resort when they got swarmed but never had the spell knocked him out cold for more than a few minutes and then only when he had been caught unawares.  
  
Judging from the light, he had lost hours. What in the Maker’s name had happened? But he had no time to think about this now.  
  
‘Fasta vass!’ Fenris snarled as he went into the bedroom to retrieve his sword and gauntlets, only to find Anders’ staff leaning in the corner of the room.  
  
‘Venhedis!’  
  
Fenris hadn’t changed out of his black leathers since he had got Anders down from the mountain but there was no time for ablution.  
  
Not now, not when his mage was traipsing through the Rivain countryside not knowing where and when he was.  
  
He might not understand it yet but the man had lost eight years of his life and he was bound to find out sooner or later. And the Anders he knew would not take this very well.  
  
Fenris stopped dead on the threshold of the front door.

'He has no idea...'

The scream that had been caught in his chest ever since Anders had spoken to him - had this only been this morning? -  climbed up his throat and burst from him, echoing in the trees.  
  
A startled bevy of larks took flight, sailing on the soft currents and disappearing from sight as if burned away by the golden rays of the sun.  
  
Fenris slammed his fist against the door, rattling it hard enough to make it jump out of its hinges.  
  
 _‘Vengeance is mine!’_  
  
The demon’s parting words had sounded like a hollow threat back in the Fade. Petulant and defeated, born from resentment that they had thwarted his plans to drown Thedas in blood and all in the name of justice.  
  
Justice, the spirit who Anders had insisted had been his friend. A spirit who had already lived inside the mage’s body when they had met that night in Kirkwall all those years ago.  
  
Justice who had become Vengeance fuelled by Anders’ anger over the treatment his kind received by the Chantry, by the templars, by people like Fenris who had seen what the Magisters of Tevinter did with their freedom.  
  
And when the demon had left, had been defeated by the strength of Fenris’ and Anders’ bond, he had taken this part of the mage’s life with him.  
  
 _‘Vengeance is mine!’_  
  
The story of Fenris’ life. Whenever he had come to care about someone, magic had taken them away from him.  
  
Fading scars on his soul reopened, filling his mind with white, hot rage. Fenris greeted it like an old friend.  
  
‘Yes, I know you. You have guided me through my worst nightmares. Let your poison give me strength now. Vengeance is my adversary and I will not be defeated.’  
  
‘I will not give him up!’  
  
‘I will fight this!’  
  
‘Anders is mine!’  
  
Anders, the mage revolutionary, leader of the mage underground, selfless protector of the oppressed. The man Fenris’ loved always stood on the side of the helpless, and gave all of himself to make the lives of others just a little bit more bearable.  
  
No matter how much Fenris and his lover had disagreed over the finer points of why mages had to be controlled, even Anders had come to understand that he needed someone to watch out for him. To make sure that his powers would only heal and not hurt the people who needed him most.  
  
He had entrusted Fenris to be that person. Anders, who distrusted anyone who did not agree with his point of view, had believed, no, he had known that Fenris would protect him even from himself.  
  
And Fenris loved this man so much, he had sworn an oath.  
  
 _'I promise you, I'll be with you. I promise you that no matter what happens you'll not be alone. If you let me, I'll stand by your side. And if you need me to, I'll give you a good death._  
 _'I'll let you go beyond the veil if I've tried everything in my power to save you and there is no other way to end your suffering. But until then, you are stuck with me.'_  
  
The blonde apostate walking through Rivain right now might not remember this but Fenris did and he would hold himself to it.  
  
Vengeance had won the first battle, but he would not win this war.


	4. Old Acquaintances

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note, I won't be able to keep up this pace. RL will begin again tomorrow and I will only have one or two hours per day to write as opposed to 10. Please be patient and let me know how you like the story. - Syren Pan

Anders had walked briskly for about two hours following the little stream that had gotten wider after the first hour or so when the line of trees gave way to a crystal blue horizon. The forest ended on a hillside. The land dropped gently before Anders’ feet into a sun-kissed open plain.  
  
The little stream rushed down the side of the hill and into the lowland where it eventually branched off into two arms which seemed to end in two round lakes. A village nestled in between those two waterways. Houses had been built right up to the edge of the lakes.  
  
Anders smiled as he strolled down the hill. He estimated that it would take him an hour to reach the settlement by which time it would be about midday.  
  
‘Just in time for lunch!’ Anders rejoiced. ‘Maker, I’m starving.’  
  
People with deeply tanned skins were going about their business in the fields and meadows. Goats seemed to be everywhere. Hardly anyone paid Anders any attention and if they did it was usually just a friendly nod or, ‘Hola.’  
  
‘Hola?’ Was this Rivain? Anders kept walking. Yes, the more he saw the more it made sense. Not in the, ‘that explains everything’ kind but more in the, ‘aha, so that’s where I am’.  
  
How in Andraste’s name had he gotten to Rivain? A ship from Amaranthine would have taken weeks, months even. The strange feeling that he had missed a great deal of life lately crept up his spine again.  
  
He shook it off and walked faster. The sooner he would get some food into him the faster he would be able to figure out what had happened.  
  
~*~  
  
‘Hawke, do I need to drag your ass all the way to Felicidad or what?’  
  
‘It’s scorching out here. Maker’s breath, why am I doing this?’ Hawke wailed as she walked behind the pirate up the dusty road.  
  
Isabela rounded on her, hands on her hips and said, ‘Well, let’s see. You needed to get out of Kirkwall and I had room for another hand on deck, and under it if you wanted to, oh, stop glaring at me. If you’re so hung up on leaving what’s his face Ser Colon behind you shouldn’t have begged me to take you away from him.’  
  
‘Cullen, Isabela. His name is Cullen and I don’t appreciate you mouthing off like that. He was the love of my life, and I had to turn my back on him. Fucking politics! Do you have any idea how I feel?’ Hawke said angrily, but secretly glad that they had taken an involuntary break. They had been on the road since sunrise.  
  
Isabela sighed. ‘Look, sweetheart, you said that about Fenris as well...’  
  
‘That’s a lie. He and I never...’  
  
‘Yeah, but not for want of trying on your part as I recall. Anyway, you got over him quick enough once you started shagging Cullen.’  
  
‘Let’s just keep walking,’ Hawke replied grumpily and brushed past the pirate with as much dignity as one could muster when leading a toothless, old donkey on a frayed bit of rope.  
  
Isabela shrugged and tagged along.  
  
After a few more minutes Hawke asked, ‘Exactly how far is it to this village? Why did you even take a job so far away from your ship, you can’t even see the ocean from here?’  
  
‘It’s complicated.’  
  
‘You mean illegal, and it will get us killed,’ Hawke replied levelly.  
  
‘Of course it’s illegal, pirate, remember?’  
  
‘I can’t believe I fought the Arishok for you.’  
  
‘And I will be forever grateful. Have I mentioned yet that you’re my favourite fellow pirate in the whole world?’ Isabela asked while giving Hawke a tight hug.  
  
‘Let me go, your bosom is suffocating me!’ Hawke gasped.  
  
Isabela let go, laughing. ‘Oh, speaking of bosom. Felicidad has been built on the shores of lake Seno.’  
  
‘Fascinating, what does that have to do with anything?’  
  
‘Seno means bosom in the common tongue, didn’t your Chantry education teach you anything?’ Isabela sighed theatrically.  
  
Hawke stared at her for a second before she picked up the pace again. After a few minutes of silence, Hawke said, 'I’m already regretting this but why?’  
  
‘Why what?’  
  
‘Why is it called bo... Seno?’  
  
‘Because the lake looks like a very nice set of boobs especially when you’re standing on a hill. Well, truth be told it looks like two separate lakes but it’s really just one big...’ Isabela trailed off and caressed her chest.  
  
‘And how far is it until we can rest on the banks of this wonderful bosom?’ Hawke asked sarcastically which only made Isabela laugh harder.  
  
‘We should be there before sundown if you stop slowing us down that is.’  
  
Hawke just glared at her back as the pirate strutted ahead. The donkey obediently followed when Hawke tugged on the rope, barely staggering under the weight of the two crates strapped to its back.  
  
~*~  
  
‘Me algra verte, mi amigo.’  
  
‘Hola,’ Anders replied. It seemed a save thing to say. The innkeeper’s greeting had sounded friendly enough, not that Anders had any idea what the woman had said, and no one in the tavern seemed to show any sign of hostility. If anything there were smiles all around.  
  
Oh good.  
  
‘Sit down, sit down, what can I get you?’ A large man with golden ear piercings and a golden ring through his nose hustled Anders to an empty table.  
  
‘Yes, well this is a bit embarrassing but I...’ Anders began and was interrupted when the innkeeper, a woman as tall as Anders and with more gold on her person than Anders had ever seen in his life, set a large bowl full of delicious smelling stew in front of him.  
  
‘Franco, bring bread for our friend and cerveza,’ she said shoving the big man into the direction of the kitchen. ‘You will have at least one pint, won’t you?’  
  
She gave him a look that said the world would come to an end if he refused which might possibly be true, for Anders at least. The woman had arms so well defined, she could probably snap him in half like a twig.  
  
‘My dear lady, how could I refuse... arrgg...’  
  
Before he could finish the sentence, Anders found himself in a tight embrace, it was like being hugged by a cozy bear trap. But before he could pass out, she let him go with a surprisingly gentle shove and kiss on his hair.  
  
‘Oh, Anders, you don’t come here often enough,’ she admonished.  
  
Go with the flow, Anders! He told himself. Years of practice on the run and countless games of, I’m sorry what was you name again, Maker, is it already time to go,’ would come to his rescue now.  
  
‘I know, I know but what can I do?’ Anders said apologetically.  
  
‘Ah, I bet he doesn’t like it when you get too far from home, no?’ Franco said with a wink as he set bread and beer in front of Anders.  
  
‘Franco!’ The innkeeper shouted and slapped Franco on the arm. A lesser man would have needed Anders’ healing talent by now but the man just grinned at her and went back to the bar.  
  
Before Anders could dwell on who the “he” in question was, another traveller entered the room. He wore a dark green cloak and hood that hid most of his features but Anders instantly recognised him as elven, and a mage. Sometimes you could just tell by looking.  
  
Besides the elf made no attempt to conceal what he was. He was carrying a rune covered staff on his back that could never be mistaken for anything but a mage’s. It reminded Anders that he had to leave his own behind.  
  
A foolish mistake but what else was new? Anders didn’t need a staff to wield magic, especially not for healing but a staff channelled your energy and gave you a lot more control and power.  
  
Oh well, no sense in crying over spilled milk.  
  
Anders concentrated on his food which was indeed as tasty as it smelled. Clearly these people had served him before because as soon as he had finished, a second bowl was shoved under his nose. Anders liked this place.  
  
When he had finally washed down the last of the bread with the rest of his second pint of cerveza - Paola, the innkeeper, had been adamant when she had pressed it on him - he looked up to find the stranger staring at him from the dark corner to his left. He had tugged the hood back revealing the intricate Vallaslin on his tanned face.  
  
‘Yes, have I got something on my face?’ Anders asked, returning the stare directly.  
  
‘Andaran atish’an, Anders.’  
  
Maker’s breath, he sure was popular in these parts. Good to know.  
  
‘Yes, nice to see you again,’ Anders replied. A gamble since he couldn’t be sure that the other knew him by reputation or was a personal acquaintance. He made a conscious effort not to hold his breath.  
  
It paid off. ‘It’s been a while since last we met. How have you been? I hope you have been pleased with my service,’ the Dalish said calmly.  
  
Service? What kind of service would Anders have needed form a Dalish mage?  
  
But before Anders could come up with a non-committal reply, they were interrupted by Franco, ‘Tulen?’  
  
The Dalish’s green eyes shifted to the tall man, ‘Yes.’  
  
‘A message arrived for you.’ Franco said by way of explanation and handed Tulen the tiny scroll. ‘Came here two days ago.’  
  
‘Ma serannas,’ the elf replied and handed Franco a coin which the tall man took with a smile before he retreated back into the kitchen.  
  
Anders watched the Dalish glance at the contents before he held the piece of paper between two fingers. Anders could feel the rush as the other reached out into the Fade. The scroll burst into blue flame just before the elf dropped it onto the table. It had crumpled into dust before it hit the surface.  
  
Anders glanced around the room if anybody had been disturbed by the display, they kept a tight lid on it. He had heard rumours that Rivain was relaxed about mages but it was something else to see it in action.  
  
‘Nice trick,’ Anders ventured. The elf smirked at him.  
  
‘Well...’  
  
A man burst into the inn, scanning the room until his eyes settled on Anders with a cry.  
  
There was no time to run and he would never make it to the door. It would be a shame after all the hospitality he had received from these good people, but a well placed fireball would create a nice new backdoor - right there. Fist under the table. Anders reached for the Fade, he faintly heard the sharp intake of breath next to him.  
  
But just as anyone else in this bizarre reality, the newcomer was apparently simply relieved to see him. Anders relaxed.  
  
‘Healer, you must come quickly! Camila, the baby...’ The man was in tears by now, grabbing Anders by the arm and tugging.  
  
‘She is with child? Stupid question, lead the way!’ Anders replied and let himself be dragged out of the inn. He could feel everyone's concerned stares following them as they stepped outside.  
  
All but one that was, if Anders had to give that look a name it would be “interested.”

~*~  
  
Things were bad when Anders arrived. Dark blood stained the linen and the woman was already too weak to cry out any more, her face was ashen and sweat had soaked her entire body.  
  
Anders had to work fast. It was a battle but in the end his skills gained the upper hand. Death had been cheated out of another victory today.  
  
Mother and child were doing well, the father was still crying, only this time for joy.  
  
‘I don’t know how to thank you, Anders.’ The man said, pulling Anders into yet another embrace. The people of Rivain really liked to express their affections physically.  
  
‘We will name her Andrea, in your honour.’ Camila said softly, cradling her newborn daughter to her chest.  
  
‘No, please, that’s too much...,’ Anders began but the father silenced him with a gesture.  
  
‘Her name is Andrea, daughter of Camila, born on this day in the 39th year of the Dragon.’  
  
The smile froze on Anders' face, ‘The what?’


	5. My Love is Vengeance and I’ll Never be Free

Tracking his lover turned out to be easy. Anders had made no effort to conceal where he was going. He obviously didn’t expect Fenris to follow him.  
  
‘No wonder you always got caught if you’re that dense about it!’ Fenris huffed under his breath as he stood in the clearing where Anders had sat down only a few hours ago.  
  
‘You actually took a bloody break!’  
  
His lover’s carelessness hurt Fenris’ pride. Who did Anders think Fenris was? Some woodcutter who couldn’t be bothered to find out where the guest who had knocked him out cold had gone to?  
  
After all they had fought on equal grounds. Actually no, Fenris had had the upper hand until the mage had used that underhanded trick. Therefore Anders should have taken precaution to make sure that a potential danger to him, make that a definite danger to him - Fenris still had a headache from the force of that knock, could not catch up.  
  
‘You sat around and then you... sat on the ground a bit, got up again and left toward...’ Fenris glanced into the direction of the brook. It made sense, follow the water. Not very original but a safe choice when your primary objective was to find other people. And Anders would definitely try to find someone less inclined to toss him around like a rag doll.  
  
‘I’ve been such an idiot!’ Fenris cursed himself. Had he acted calmly, Anders might still be at their house now and they could have tried to figure out together what to do but no, Fenris had to go and scare him off.  
  
‘Stupid! Stupid...’  
  
‘I couldn't agree more.’ A female voice said from the shadows of the trees.  
  
Fenris turned on his heels to glare at the seer who was stepping into the clearing with a smile that didn’t reach her dark eyes.  
  
‘I don’t have time for you. Be gone, witch.’ Fenris replied before he started to walk into the direction his lover had obviously gone.  
  
‘Is Anders home?’  
  
Fenris stopped. It was a good thing Jacinta couldn’t see his face. ‘No,’ he eventually replied and continued to walk.  
  
‘Well, I need to see him urgently, where is he?’ The seer insisted, annoyance in her voice.  
  
Fenris whipped around and walked up to her until she was within arm’s reach. To her credit she didn’t even flinch. 'You will stay away from him, you will not ask after him, you will go back to whatever pit you crawled out of and leave us be!’  
  
‘Or what?’ She spat back, the smile was gone from her face.  
  
‘You don’t want me to answer that,’ Fenris snarled.  
  
She did take a step back then before she said in a quiet voice full of venom, ‘You are despicable! How can you claim to love him when there is nothing but hate in your own heart? Ah, but he did give you his, didn’t he? You're like a leech, sapping all that is good out of him to make up for your own shortcoming. Lucky for you then that he has so much love in him because even a foul, twisted creature like you could never drink him dry.’  
  
Fenris stared at her as the full blast of her anger hit him.  
  
‘You’re like the evil spirits that come to the gifted, making false promises only to get inside you, to take over, to twist your soul until they even twist your flesh because they understand nothing of our world. They know only how to take until there is nothing left. Isn’t that what you’re doing? Living through him because he is so full of life, full of love for this world and the spirit world whereas you know only how to hate.’  
  
His first impulse was to rush up to her, ghost his fist into her chest and rip out her heart. How dare she judge him? How dare this witch, this maleficar who let demons possess her willingly, even think of him and Anders? She knew nothing of them, of what they had been through.  
  
She must have sensed the impulse in him because she took another step back and crouched into a defensive stance with her hands raised. They were glowing softly with spirit magic.  
  
‘Don’t even try, you would never reach me.’

No doubt a spirit cage would slow him down, might even hurt him, but it would only buy her a few minutes before he would catch up with her. She was a tiny woman, all hips and bosom, who spent most of her time sitting and talking to people where Fenris spent most of his hunting raiders, beasts and abominations. It would be no contest.  
  
Fenris took a deep breath and said, ‘I wouldn’t hurt you unless you really provoke me,’ Fenris indicated her hands with his gauntlet, ‘because... he wouldn’t want me to. I don’t care what you think of us, of me, but he thinks you’re worth his time and that means you have nothing to fear from me.’  
  
Jacinta raised her eyebrow, sweat trickled down the side of her face, this demonstration of power was wearing her out already but her words gave nothing away, ‘Let’s say I don’t believe you, where does that leave us?’  
  
‘I don’t care what you believe. I do wonder though what Anders would think of you had he heard that jealous tirade come out of your mouth.’  
  
Her chest heaved when she heard Fenris’ words, exposing her bravado for what it was. She was out of breath and clearly at the end of her strength but still she didn’t change her stance when she asked, ‘Where is Anders?’  
  
‘He isn’t here,’ Fenris replied, his throat felt dry. He wasn't here because Fenris had been a fool and killing her would not get him back into his lover's good graces once they got around the fact that he couldn't remember any of them at the moment.  
  
Jacinta must have come to the conclusion that Fenris would not kill her today because she lowered her hands and straightened up. She swayed softly and tried to cover it up by fussing with her golden bracelets and shawl. Fenris pretended not to notice.  
  
‘We need him at Isadora’s. I did a sesión de espiritismo for her yesterday to find out whether the baby would be a boy or a girl but... I would rather Anders took a look at her.’  
  
‘That’s hardly an emergency,’ Fenris replied. Now that the proverbial storm was over, he was getting annoyed again. He had elsewhere to be.  
  
‘It is when the spirit tells the mother that her child is neither!’ Jacinta shot back.  
  
Fenris scowled, ‘That’s what you get when you ask a demon for advice, it was obviously toying with you. You messed up and now you want Anders to sort it out because you can't even tell when a demon is lying to you. You shouldn't have told the mother in the first place.’  
  
Jacinta stared at him open mouthed. ‘I... I don’t even know where to begin when someone says something this fucking stupid!’  
  
‘Whatever, witch, Anders is not here and Isadora is bound to find out eventually. This is not an emergency and I will take my leave now.’  
  
But Jacinta was not to be deterred, she caught up with him and dared to hold him back by the elbow. Fenris twisted out of her grip as she said, ‘A spirit - not me - told the mother that her baby is neither sex which can mean any number of things, mostly harmless and good things,’ she conceded but when Fenris was about to dismiss her she held up her finger, ‘or a mage already possessed by an evil spirit in the womb.’  
  
Fenris looked at her suspiciously. ‘I have been a slave to a Tevinter Magister for most of my life, I think I would have heard it if such a thing was possible.’  
  
Jacinta gave him an old look, ‘You know nothing because you don’t want to know anything. You keep telling anyone who would hear about your past but after two minutes with you it is plain to see that you are ignorant about the most basic things!’  
  
‘Because I wasn’t taught anything,’ Fenris snapped back. ‘I was kept on a leash...’  
  
‘Yes, yes, it’s all very tragic,’ Jacinta interrupted in the voice of someone who had heard the story more than once. Fenris seethed at her insolence but she said, ‘But I was referring to your ignorance about magic and the spirit world despite living with Anders.’  
  
‘This conversation has gone on too long already and as I said when this started: be gone, witch!’  
  
Fenris walked off toward the trees.  
  
‘Anders needs to look at this child in the womb or we might lose them both,’ Jacinta shouted into the forest.  
  
‘Venhedis!’ Fenris turned around one more time. Jacinta stood in the clearing, the sunlight made her dark skin shimmer golden. She looked like the statue of the seer goddess that was revered throughout Rivain. Most of the region still worshipped a pantheon of old local deities, only Dairsmuid, the capital, had an official Chantry. It was one of the reasons why Rivain had seemed an ideal place to settle down. They could have...  
  
Jacinta interrupted his thoughts when she saw Fenris apporach, ‘I ask you one last time, where is Anders?’

‘I think he went to Felicidad.’ It was a safe bet given that the Poco Beso, the small brook, let to Lake Seno and the little village, notorious for it’s hospitality, it’s remote but strategically important location near a lake that looked like a huge bosom, and a popular market place for smugglers, mercenaries and adventurers.  
  
‘You mean you don’t know?’ Jacinta asked exasperated.  
  
‘I... we had a...,’ a thought struck Fenris. ‘You remember the runes you gave him?’  
  
‘The valour runes? Yes, for the exorcism. Did something go wrong? I told him he should let me help. Tsk.’  
  
‘Yes, the host recovered but he... they have no memory of what happened during the time of their possession.’  
  
Jacinta looked at him with that look again that implied Fenris had said something incredibly stupid. ‘Of course they don’t! See, that is what I am talking about with you. You confuse the summoning of a demon with the union of spirit and seer. Did you not listen to anything I’ve just said?’  
  
Fenris scowled at her but she held up her hand. ‘When you take the spirit into yourself, the spirit takes over.'

'Yes, you become an abomination, you patronizing cow.' Fenris barked impatiently.

Jacinta spat on the ground and muttered a curse. 'You ignorant fool! You talk about evil spirits, demons. Your magisters call on them to give them power. They summon an avatar of the demon into this world and converse with them. They try to outwit it to give them power whereas the demon wants nothing more than to possess the mage. It happens if the mage is weak and the demon takes the body, destroying the living being in the process: those are the twisted creatures that you call abominations.'

'I know all this, why are you lecturing me?'

'Because you are a fool! When a spirit - good or evil - takes over your body they can access your memory but they don’t understand, they do not know what it is like to be a living thing. Like a child with a picture book trying to understand the sound of the wind, or the smell of rain. It can’t be done.’  
  
Fenris stared at her, ‘You mean they feed on your memory?’  
  
‘Gods great and good, no. I’m just saying that the spirit is coming as a guest, a stranger to this world. They take over your body to experience this world first hand, part of this experience is them reading whatever memory is part of your physical form. Those tattoos on you for example, a spirit in your body would remember how you got them because your body remembers.’  
  
‘They would not want this memory, trust me!’ Fenris said bitterly.  
  
Jacinta shook her head and continued to explain, ‘But they would not understand what the pain meant to you, how it influenced your life. A spirit is a piece of the Fade that believes what it is. Physical form makes little sense to them. That’s why they are so curious. They can’t leave the Fade but they can stretch across through a mind that is open to their world.'

'You are testing my patience, why are you telling me all this?'

'Because you don't comprehend what a benevolent spirit who possess you does. A seer does not summon the avatar of mercy, we invite mercy itself into the world. We offer ourselves as payment. We don't try to cheat the spirit like your magisters do by summoning an avatar, we invite the spirit to come through the veil. They are selfless things, they see it as a great gift that is not theirs to keep. A demon wants it all but a spirit always wishes to return to the Fade.  
  
‘And while the spirit is in my body, I, the seer, take a step back. As payment for the experience, the spirit shares what they know with whoever asks them the question, and then they leave again, no fuss. They got what they came for, the person asking the question got more or less what they came for, and the seer steps forward to regain her body, and gets coin in her hand. What are a few minutes of my life for bread and wine on the table for a week, no?’  
  
There were no words to describe the horror inside Fenris when her words sank in. It couldn’t be true. There was no way what she said was the truth.  
  
‘What if someone was possessed for years before the spirit was cast out?’  
  
Jacinta looked at him seriously, ‘Then that person would have lost years of their life while the spirit was using their body. But no benign spirit would do such a thing, they are grateful for a short glimpse of this world, only a demon would stay for that long... unless...’  
  
‘Unless what?’ Fenris asked grabbing Jacinta’s arms and holding her in a tight grip short of painful.  
  
Obviously shocked by his sudden outburst, the seer didn’t even try to squirm. Fenris could sense her fear and let her go. He started pacing up and down like a caged animal.  
  
‘Fenris, you’re frightening me. What are you not telling me?’  
  
‘Tell me what you know!’ Fenris shouted back.  
  
Jacinta seemed to have reached the decision that this what not the time to insist on gaining the upper hand and said, 'Emiliana, one of the first seers in the world. It is said that when she was facing death at the hands of Diego, a villainous chieftain, whom she had foretold that his reign of terror would come to an end, a benevolent spirit, a spirit of compassion, joined with her and together they overcame death and defeated Diego and thus fulfilled the prophecy. Emiliana and the spirit stayed together until she died much later in her sleep when they both returned to the spirit world.’  
  
‘A fairy tale then.’ Fenris said bitterly.  
  
‘No, there have been others but that is all I know.’  
  
‘I need to go,’ Fenris said quickly and all but ran into the forest.  
  
‘Fenris, what is going on?’ Jacinta called after him, honest concern in her voice but the warrior was gone.  
  
~*~  
  
 _‘THAT IS WHAT WE TRULY ARE. THAT IS WHAT YOU’VE TAKEN TO YOUR BED, ELF.’_  
  
Vengeance words in the Fade rang in Fenris’ ears as he ran toward Felicidad. It couldn’t be, Anders cared for him, and Vengeance had clearly said that he didn’t so this couldn’t be true.

The seer had said it herself, Anders was kind, compassionate and full of love - Vengeance was driven, hard and bloodthirsty. None of this made sense. A demon would have destroyed Anders but he was still whole, he just couldn't remember.

Not a demon then.

Justice.

No, Fenris refused to believe, he refused. Jacinta knew nothing, she was barely a mage.

But the more he tried to convince himself, the worse the feeling got that Fenris hadn’t simply lost Anders.  
  
He had never known him at all.


	6. Dragon 39

The world came back in a rush and with it the truth like ice wave in the chest but without the fun. Because ice wave eventually melts and welcoming the warmth back into your life is like Saturnalia in Summer.

But this wasn't like ice wave. This was Dragon 39.

Dragon. 39.

'Eight years. I lost eight years.' Anders sat up from the cot he was lying on. He was alone in a stuffy room with little light. He could vaguely hear sounds that reminded him of a tavern.

The inn. They must have carried him after he...

Dragon 39.

Anders buried his face in his hands. He really needed to shave.

He automatically looked around the room if only to distract himself. A tiny mirror stood propped up on a shelf in front of it a washstand, a pitcher and a razor in a leather sheath.

'Apparently I'm not the only one who noticed,' Anders mumbled as he stood up and approached the mirror.

He stared at the reflection of a handsome, unshaven man in his thirties.

'Maker...,' Anders shut his eyes, his hands gripped the bowl as if his life depended on it.

Every single object in the room began to shake.

The low, menacing rumble like the sound before an earthquake bounced off the walls.

'Wha...'

Anders' head shot up and as suddenly as it had started everything went quiet again.

The door to his room was flung open, sounding eerily loud after the cacophony of the phantom earthquake, and the Dalish mage entered, staff ready.

Anders held his hands up in a gesture of appeasement. 'I didn't do it!'

Tulen's eyebrow rose but he lowered his staff before slinging it onto his back. 'Are you sure?'

'What? Yes, of course I'm sure. I'm always sure. I would know if I set off an earthquake, wouldn't I?' Anders replied defensively.

'Hn,' Tulen grunted, tilting his head to one side.

'Stop looking at me like that. It wasn't me!' Anders said with a bit more force than necessary.

The Dalish pursed his lips and fixed his fellow mage with a narrow-eyed stare before he said, 'Yes, you did,' but before Anders could protest the elf held up his hand and continued, 'but I believe you that you don't believe you did it.'

Anders tried to follow that line of thought and gave up. He was too tired, too stressed and too confused to deal with anyone else's madness right now. Who cared what the Dalish mage thought anyway?

'How did I get here?' Anders asked to change the subject.

'I carried you back after you passed out,' Franco's large frame loomed in the doorway. 'You had us all worried for a bit.'

'Anders, caro, let me have a look at you.' Camila charged in, shoving Franco out of the way.

'I'm fine, really just, eh, a bit exhausted from the delivery, really I'm fine,' Anders babbled, all this attention was starting to make him nervous.

Everyone here seemed to know him, like him even but they were all strangers to him and he didn't want to find out what would happen if or when they cottoned on to it.

'Pushed it out yourself, did ya?' Franco chuckled, obviously much less worried now.

'Go tend the bar!' Camila barked at him in annoyance which made the tall man almost trip over his own feet in an effort to comply.

However her angry grimace turned into a beatific smile when she turned her attention back to Anders. 'Don't mind him, Anders, you know he is an insensitive oaf. Let me look at you!'

She advanced like a high dragon mother concerned for her dragonling. If high dragon mothers were motherly that is, which they really weren't. They tended to eat their young more often than not especially when they smelled weakness.

Anders knees felt plenty weak right now but shear terror gave him strength as he expertly ducked her outstretched arms and skirted around her already half-way out the door before she could even get a word in.

'I'm fine. Thank you for the, eh, hospitality. Must be going now. Bye.' Anders blurted before his whole body gave into the urge to flee.

~*~

'It does look like a bosom,' Hawke conceded. She was sweaty, tired and beyond irritated by the donkey who whenever they stopped for a rest started to nibble on her coat, or more to the point drooled on her coat. The poor beast had all but three teeth left. It should be dead by all accounts but some things were just too stubborn to die.

Just as the thought struck her, a familiar figure came running toward them.

'Is that...?'

'Wow, he is fast! Hey, An...'

But Anders paid them no mind as he ran past them down the road before he took a sudden turn and disappeared into the direction of the hills.

Isabela and Hawke exchanged a look.

'Well, he could have said hello,' Isabela said eventually.

Hawke just nodded in agreement, absent-mindedly trying to shove the donkey's muzzle away from her.

'Should we go after him?' Isabela asked, her voice radiating that she thought they really had more important things to do right now.

Hawke seemed to ponder the question but just as she started to reply another figure came running from the direction of the village. A Dalish by the looks of it. He would have run passed them as well but did a last minute double-take and stopped, leaving skid marks in the dust.

'Isabela, I presume?' The elf asked, a little out of breath.

'You must be Tulen,' Isabela replied. 'This is my associate, Hawke.'

Tulen seemed to notice the rogue for the first time. His eye-brows rose as he said, 'I may have heard that name before.'

'Yes, well, it's common in Ferelden.' Hawke replied tartly.

Tulen gave her a long look before he nodded and said, 'If you say so.'

Hawke rolled her eyes and fussed with the animal while Isabela said, 'Funny thing, we just saw an old friend running by, you wouldn't have anything to do with that?'

The elf looked surprised, 'You know Anders?'

'Yes, we do,' Hawke chimed in, 'why is he running away from you?'

'I don't think he is running away from me as such. He seems ...confused. I was just going after him to check that he was alright.'

'I'm sure you were,' Hawke replied, implying that she didn't believe him for a second.

'Whatever, we are here on business. Do you have what I asked for?' Isabela asked impatiently.

Tulen pursed his lips and said, 'Not yet.'

'You...' Isabela began but before she could fly in his face, daggers in hand, Tulen continued, 'The contact wants to verify the delivery before he makes any concessions.'

'You said, you would have it before I even got here. What are you playing at? If you are trying to double-cross me, I strongly advise you to consider the company I keep.' Isabela spat on the ground.

Hawke and the donkey both looked at the pair, slightly puzzled that they had been drawn into this conversation.

Tulen looked at Hawke and the animal and back to Isabela who kept an angry, straight face even when the donkey farted loud enough to startle a Fennec from it's burrow. The little creature darted between their feet and down the road, the same direction Anders had disappeared in.

The elf blinked, 'I was supposed to meet the contact after sundown up at Tumba de Traidor, a famous clearing where they used to execute traitors. It's not far from here in the hills. Why don't you tag along and get what you came for yourself.'

'Then explain to me again why I need you!' Isabela groused.

'Because without me, there would have been no deal in the first place. The Ben-Hassrath would kill you on sight.' Tulen replied levelly.

'Hold on, did you just say what I think you did?' Hawke asked, clearly alarmed by this news. 'Isabela...'

'Look, this is my chance to get them off my back for good. I just make the delivery and they give me a guarantee that they will no longer hold a grudge against me and we can all go our merry way.'

'Maker's breath, Isabela, you don't think they might be... excuse us,' Hawke dragged her friend a few feet away from the elf who was pretending not to listen.

'You don't think they might be a little bit upset to see the one who killed their Arishok?' Hawke asked, voice dripping with sarcasm.

'Hawke,' Isabela put her hands on the rogue's shoulders, 'if this goes through neither of us will have to worry about the Qunari for the rest of our days.'

Hawke looked into Isabela's golden eyes and sighed. 'Does Tumba de Traidor mean what I think it means?'

'Probably.'

'Well, just keep the name in mind when we go up there in case this turns sour like I suspect it will, and this time you lead the fucking donkey.'

'Oh, you can ditch the donkey, it's just a diversion in case some bright spark would have tried to rob us on the way,' Isabela shrugged before she turned on her heel to go back to Tulen.

The elf tried very hard not to laugh as he saw Hawke drawing her daggers and slowly advancing on Isabela's back before she made an abrupt turn to cut the ropes that tied the heavy crates to the donkey's back.

The boxes split open as they hit the ground. Grey rocks, completely worthless tumbled onto the path. To add insult to injury one of the rocks had a crude drawing of Isabela on it, sticking her tongue out at Hawke in mockery.

The donkey brayed one last time and wandered off into the meadow. Hawke watched it leave, counting carefully to twenty under her breath.

When she finally turned, she was relatively sure she could control the impulse to gut her friend like a fish, only to find that Isabela and Tulen had already walked on and were mere moving specks in the distant.

'Tumba de Traidor, Isabela, you better remember that!' Hawke mumbled through gritted teeth before she ran after them.

Maybe they would get lucky and catch up with Anders on the way.


	7. Reunion

The sun was almost touching the horizon when he stopped running. ‘Eight years on and nothing has changed,’ Anders groaned as he sat down on a boulder, still warm form the sunlight.

And the day had had such a promising start.

Except for the glowing elf maybe. That had been awkward. And not knowing where or when he was hadn’t been too brilliant either. And being treated like family by a lot of lovely people who he couldn’t remember that had been really weird.

On second thought, no, this day hadn’t been a good day. More average than good to be honest. There had been an earthquake, too. In fact it could easily rank among the top ten days that really sucked in Anders’ life so far.  

‘Ouch. Or maybe something has changed. Maker’s breath, this used to be easier.’ He eased himself on the ground, resting his back against the stone. He catalogued all the little twinges and aches that made themselves known now that the adrenaline was wearing off. He _was_ getting old.

‘Fucking…,’ something rustled in the undergrowth to his left. He only noticed because all of a sudden the rest of the world had gone very quiet.

‘Looks like you want to make it into the top five,’ he mumbled under his breath.

Anders stared into the direction of the sound, too tired and achy to run again, he readied himself, power surging through him as he called.

Calm, strong, no… stronger. He hadn’t noticed it before but…

Whatever it was, it was getting closer, branches moved as the attacker advanced on him.

Anders knew he was at the brink of exhaustion and yet the power kept building up. It felt different than before, somehow steadier. Healing magic felt like flying on a breeze. Fire and ice felt warm or cold as to be expected but this… this felt…

The beast sprang into the clearing.

Anders screamed.

The Fennec’s nose twitched.

It felt like riding a dragon. Raw power slammed the tiny creature into the ground, burying it in a crater six feet deep.

‘…shit.’

~*~

‘You just missed him. He ran as if chased by demons. What is going on? Anders has been so weird all day. Have you been fighting again?’ Paola’s face of concern turned into an accusing stare.

But Fenris was too worried to even notice. ‘Which way did he go?’

‘Western road, Tulen ran after him,’ Franco replied, carefully placing his hand on Paola’s upper arm and almost imperceptibly shaking his head at her when she turned her glare on him. She relaxed by a fraction.

‘Who?’ Fenris asked impatiently.

‘Tulen, he is, how do you say, he is a _business_ man,’ Franco explained, putting an inflection on ‘business’ that left no doubt as to what kind of business Tulen was dealing in.

‘An elf, Dalish. He comes here from time to time. I recall he and Anders met about six or seven months ago, twice. All parties seemed to be happy but I don’t know the details of the trade, and I take it from your reaction you don’t know either, do you?’ Paola added slyly.

Fenris shot her a look.

‘He is your man, is he not? You really should look after him a bit better. Poor Anders, who knows maybe Tulen gave him some magical advice how to get rid of...,’ but before Paola could finish her jibe, Franco elbowed her in the side and she settled for glaring meaningful at Fenris instead.  

What was is it about Rivaini women that they all seemed to worship the ground Anders walked on but always suspected Fenris was somehow an unwanted influence in the mage’s life?

‘You should be able to catch them easily,’ Franco said hastily before things could turn uglier than they already were.

‘West you said?’ Fenris asked, pointedly ignoring the innkeeper.

‘Yes, straight toward Tumba de Traidor, you can cut him off if you take the old goat pass behind the mill. It’s quicker.’ Franco confirmed.

‘My thanks,’ Fenris replied, already running.

~*~

Anders crawled on all fours closer to the edge of the crater and stared at the shattered body. ‘I am so sorry, I honestly had no idea.’

‘Bas-saarebas!’ A deep voice growled behind him. Anders froze in terror.

‘That was quite a demonstration of power. No, don’t turn around, keep your hands on the ground, that’s a good boy.’

Anders had heard the word ‘saarebas’ before at Vigil’s Keep. Last week in fact, the Tal-Vashoth merchant had sneered at him while they were haggling over an amulet. When Anders had asked about the word, the merchant had described in colourful detail what Qunari did to their mages – _saarebas_ – with that deadpan expression of his.

Only that had been eight years ago Anders reminded himself but he doubted that the practice had changed significantly in the past almost decade which meant that he, Anders, was in a world of sodding trouble right now. He had to act and fast or he would die, or worse.

To Anders surprise the Qunari made no move to attack but instead said, ‘You are not the bas-saarebas I was expecting. My contacts said you would be Dalish. My contacts are seldom wrong.’

Dalish? Was the Qunari expecting Tulen? Worth a shot.

‘Tulen is delayed. He asked me to meet you. Well done. You’re early.’ Shit, Anders mouth was running all by itself again but it seemed to pay off.

‘Mh. Well, when you’re meeting a Dalish saarebas at a place called Traitor’s Grave you make a note of showing up ahead of schedule just to keep things civilised.’ The Qunari sounded amused. ‘You can turn around now by the way, slowly.’

Anders carefully sat up on his haunches before turning around, still crouching. On the boulder that he himself had occupied only minutes ago sat the biggest, horned Qunari Anders had ever seen. An angry looking scar – still fresh – was barely concealed by an eye-patch where his left eye should have been. A double-bladed axe almost as tall as Anders rested calmly next to the warrior’s right hand on the rock.

‘You look surprised,’ the Qunari said. Anders could feel sweat running down the back of his neck. That one eye was unnervingly calm as it seemed to see right through him.

‘So, does this Tulen even know you’re here?’ The warrior asked casually.

‘Well, I do know Tulen. In fact I had dinner with him this afternoon in Felicidad but I had to leave early and…,’ Anders voiced trailed off as the Qunari stood up and slowly advanced, picking the great axe up and slinging it over his shoulder almost as an afterthought as if it weighed nothing.

‘I don’t want any trouble,’ Anders said hastily, leaning backwards until he suddenly sat on the ground. The huge figure was looming above him, staring. Just one swipe with that axe and it would all be over.

‘Listen I don’t want to…’

The Qunari suddenly stopped and stared into the forest, axe ready when the cry came.

‘ANDERS!’

In a flash of blue the lyrium elf from this morning rushed passed Anders’ prone form and barrelled into the horned giant. The clashing of steel resonated around the clearing.

‘YOU?' Anders heard the Qunari shout before the elf’s greatsword smashed down on the axe driving the taller warrior backward.

‘What the… hell no! FENRIS STOP!’ A curvy woman suddenly appeared and then disappeared in a blur after shouting the elf’s name.

Another woman, blades drawn, and Tulen rushed into the clearing as well. Everyone was shouting and then it all stopped.

The curvy woman had two daggers around Fenris' throat while Tulen held the Qunari suspended in a barrier. The second woman stood in between Fenris and the Qunari, blades pointed at both. At which point the soft edge of the crater behind Anders gave way and he tumbled with an undignified squeak into the hole.


	8. With friends like these

‘Nice to see you again, sweet thing,’ Isabela purred into Fenris’ ear. ‘Drop the sword or this will be a rather short reunion.’

‘He wants to kill Anders,’ Fenris spat back. One unguarded moment was all he probably needed. He wasn’t certain he could phase fast enough before the pirate would cut his throat, and Hawke was standing right in front of him, blade drawn. He would have to go through her as well. But his lover’s life was at stake here and, Andraste’s flaming ass, he was going to try.

‘As a matter of fact I hadn’t really decided on that yet,’ the Qunari replied eerily calm from behind the barrier. Fenris rolled his eyes, not daring to move his neck, until he could see the huge, grey giant glaring at him.

‘Now everyone, we can put our blades away and discuss this nicely, or I will spend the rest of the night washing blood out of my clothes again and I really hate doing laundry after the sun has set,’ Hawke chimed in, confident as ever.

‘Big words from such a little girl,’ the Qunari taunted, a foolish idea but then again he wasn’t in possession of all the facts yet.

‘Hissrad, kost! This is Hawke,’ Tulen said, still maintaining the barrier.

For the first time the grey warrior stopped focusing on Fenris and looked at the woman who was pointing a dagger at his face, only Tulen’s barrier in between the blade and his throat.

The moment stretched and then, ‘Parshaara! Let us talk. I’m here on business after all.’ And just like that the giant straightened up and fastened his axe on his back before holding his hands up in a gesture of peace.

‘I’m going to drop the barrier now,’ Tulen announced.

‘By all means,’ Hawke replied her blades not moving an inch.

‘Are you serious?’ Tulen asked, irritation creeping into his voice.

‘Positively.’

Tulen grunted but dropped the spell and the glowing dome that had kept the Qunari in check vanished. Nobody moved.

‘Not that I’m not enjoying this intimate moment,’ Isabela said, Fenris could hear the smile in her voice. ‘But if I’m going to let you go now, are you going to behave yourself?’

‘You have my word,’ Fenris growled.

‘Well, where have we heard that before?’ Hawke asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. She was still not taking her eyes off the grey warrior in front of her.

‘Fine,’ Fenris huffed, ‘I will not attack unprovoked, I swear it.’

Slowly, Isabela’s blades caressed the skin on his neck without ever breaking it until the steel was gone.

‘I missed you, gorgeous,’ Isabela purred into his ear. ‘Love what you have done with the outfit. See, I can do this now since you have lost the spikes.’ Suddenly, Fenris found himself in a tight embrace from behind only to be shoved forward a second later. ‘Bah, but you reek. When did you last have a bath?’

‘Actually, that’s how I knew he was coming at me earlier,’ the horned giant suddenly said. 'You have gotten soft Blue Ghost of Seheron.'

All eyes turned to the Qunari and then back to Fenris. ‘Hold on, you _know_ him?’ Hawke asked, pointing at Fenris over her shoulder.

'You could say that.'

'Excuse me, could someone give me a hand?' a voice suddenly interrupted from the direction of the hole.

'Anders!' Fenris exclaimed, cutting the conversation short as he rushed over to the edge of the small crater.

'Hi...Fenris, wasn't it?'

Fenris sighed in relief at the sight of his dishevelled lover, covered in dirt and the remains of a small splattered creature, yet somehow still managing a shaky grin.

'A little help, please?'

Without a word, Fenris extended his hand which the mage took without hesitation.

Anders bumped into Fenris as he made it out of the hole and back on to his feet.

'Sorry... and thanks. I mean sorry for earlier, I mean, I hope I didn't hurt you. I don't seem to know my own strength at the moment,' Anders babbled, indicating the crater he had ripped into the forest floor with his new-found power.

'I mean please don't think that I knock all handsome strangers whose bed I wake up in unconscious. Did I say handsome out loud? I meant gorgeous, I mean you are, look at you. ...I think I might have a concussion.' Anders voice trailed off as he and Fenris just stared at each other in awkward silence.

'Anders, you haven't changed one bit! Still talking when actions would speak so much louder than words.' Isabela laughed, hands on her hips, her bosom heaving with every chuckle.

Fenris and Anders turned to their involuntary audience. Fenris automatically scowled at the smirking faces but Anders embarrassed smile vanished as he replied, 'Sadly, dear lady, you'll find that that's not true.'

'Anders,' Fenris began and reached out to gently grab his lover by his upper arm but Anders gently twisted out of the hold before he replied, 'No, I have been running all day from it and it got me nowhere.'

Anders tried to wipe his dirty hand on his even dirtier coat, gave up, and extended it anyway toward the pirate who looked at it as if she had never seen one before.

'What are you doing?' She asked with a nervous chuckle.

'I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage. I woke up this morning only to discover during the course of this fine day that I have lost eigh...Andraste's flaming arse, I have lost eight years of my life. My name is Anders, how do you do?'

TBC

 


	9. The Price of Freedom

'So, you have no idea who I am,' Hawke asked Anders for what what must have been the twelfth time in ten minutes.

Instead of answering this time, Anders just gave her a sad smile.

'Andraste's mercy, that's... that's...'

'A clusterfuck without the fun.' Isabela finished for Hawke, not taking her eyes of Fenris.

The white haired elf had not said a single word since Anders had revealed his predicament. 'It's like we're back at the Hanged Man and you are trying to rob us all blind playing Wicked Grace with that deadpan expression of yours. Have you nothing to say to this? What happened?'

Fenris stared at Isabela for a very long time before he said, 'He doesn't know me either.'

When the statement finally sank in, Hawke and Isabela cursed in unison.

'I'm... sorry.' Anders said quietly. He didn't know what else to say.

'You have nothing to be sorry about,' Hawke began but then looked at Fenris who clenched his jaws so tightly, Hawke thought she could hear his teeth gnash.

'Or...' Hawke began focusing on Anders again with a calculating look that made him take a step backwards.

'I swear I have no idea what's going on. Yesterday for all I care, I was camping in the woods with my squad about a day's march away from Vigil's Keep and then I woke up this morning in his bed, ' Anders pointed at Fenris, 'just to be tossed around by him... not like that, damn, woman, you have a filthy mind, and then I was running through the woods, found a tavern, got treated like everyone’s best friend, delivered a baby and then I learned that eight years had passed from one day to the next. End of story.'

'That's all very fascinating,' the Qunari interrupted, 'and under different circumstances I would love to hear more, sounds pretty fucked up if you ask me, but I am here on business. So if it's all the same to you, could we just get on to our bit and then I will be on my way, my boys are waiting.'

'Boys?' Tulen asked with a raised eyebrow.

'Oh, yeah, haven't you heard? I've got my own company now, The Bull's Chargers, I got tired of working for Fisher, figured I could do a better job myself. It's going pretty well.'

'Never understood what you were doing with him anyway. As far as covers go, there are better ways to get by.' Tulen replied sagely.

'Like playing Dalish in a land pretty much devoid of Dalish?'

Tulen gave the other a toothy grin, “Did you dispose of the imbecile?'

'Fisher? Nah. Snapped his sword in half and we talked about it over a pint.'

'How long did you work for him, four years?

'Three actually...'

'Excuse me, weren't you the one who wanted to “get on to our bit”? Isabela interrupted with an irritated frown.

'Yes, sorry. Haven't seen Callidor in a while.'

'Who?'

'Him,' Bull indicated Tulen with his thumb.

'I thought your name was Tulen?' Anders interjected which earned him a raised eyebrow from the Qunari.

'Kindly shut up, Anders. You are not helping. Go stand over there with Fenris!' Isabela commanded.

'Hey, just because I don't remember you, doesn't mean you can order me around.' Anders replied haughtily.

'Ignore her, Anders, it's better to just let her get on with it.' Hawke said matter-of-factly and added with a hint of venom, 'Otherwise we'll be here all night and I want to get somewhere with a bath, bed and beer, preferably within the hour. Do you live close?'

The last question was directed at Fenris. 'Felicidad's closer,' the warrior replied.

'Fine, we'll go as soon as Isabela is done.'

'Don't I get a say in this?' Anders asked, irritated that these strangers had somehow taken over his life. 'I didn't run away form the circle only to be bossed around by women for the rest of my days!'

'I thought the Warden Commander was Sereda Aeducan?' Hawke retorted dryly.

Anders opened his mouth to reply and settled for a scathing glare instead.

'Whatever. If your little side show is over,' Isabela turned from Hawke and Anders to the spy, 'I have what you asked for but first I want to see it.'

'See...it?' The Qunari asked, clearly puzzled. 'As in: I show you mine, you show me yours?' He gave her a long, appraising look. 'I am game but let's get the business side out of the way first.'

'You... what the fuck, Tulen?' Isabela advanced on the elf who had the nerve to give her a smirk and a wink.

'You wouldn't have gone for the deal if I hadn't promised you something solid. I know your kind, pirate. You don't believe in what you can't see.' Tulen said.

'So there is no amulet of Kadan.' Isabela fumed.

'There is,' the spy replied, looking back and forth between Tulen and Isabela, 'but I don't think it is what you think it is.'

'I think all of this is a reeking pile of shit, what are you playing at, Tulen?' A knife appeared in Isabela's hand.

'Isabela?' Hawke asked, implying she was ready to step in if needed.

'Not yet, first I want to hear what this son of a bitch has to say for himself!'

Anders had sidled up to Fenris and whispered, 'Do you know what's going on here?'

'No, and I don't care as long as you're safe,' Fenris replied, giving Anders a look that made the mage's heart skip a beat.

'Oh....' was all Anders replied. Not for the first time did he get the feeling that there was a whole lot of story that he desperately needed to hear. And he wouldn't be surprised to find out that the gorgeous warrior in front of him was one of the main characters.

Before Anders could finish raking his brain for something suave to reply, Isabela yelled loud enough that people in Felicidad must have fallen out of their beds.

'And that's why I said there was an amulet,' Tulen yelled back. 'I knew you wouldn't trust me if I said the agent will give you his word, directly passed on from the new Arishok, that all things will be forgotten if you deliver.'

'Oh, so if I am about to be murdered by a Sten, I should just stand there and explain that the Arishok has forgiven me?'

'If I may,' the Qunari stepped in between Tulen and Isabela. 'Think about this for a moment. The only ones who would ever come after you, are spies or assassins dispatched by spies. But if the spies tell you, indeed promise you, that you're free to go, then you're free to go. Take it or leave it.'

The eerily calm voice of the grey giant seemed to have the desired effect. Isabela turned, her blade vanished and she exchanged a long look with Hawke before she replied, 'Fine. But this better be solid or I will find your Bull's Chargers and carve my own amulet out of one of your horns.'

'Fair enough,' the Qunari smiled.

'Here,' Isabela produced a small leather pouch from somewhere out of her cleavage.

'Nice.' The Qunari replied and Isabela flashed him a quick grin.

The warrior opened the pouch and sniffed the contents before he retrieved a pinch of the black substance and rubbed it between index finger and thumb.

'Could you get a quick fire going? I need to test this.' The request had been directed at Tulen who immediately threw a few twigs into the ash of what must have been someone else's camp fire and lit the wood with a snap of his fingers.

'Er, you might all want to take a step back for this,' the spy warned.

Tulen had joined the others on the other end of the clearing when Fenris' voice distracted him form watching the fire.

'I thought I had seen it all, but here you are: a Dalish mage who is a Qunari spy. How are you possible, Tulen or Callidor, or should I call you Hissrad as well?'

'How very perceptive of you,' Tulen commented, his voice betraying neither admiration nor annoyance.

'Pretend Dalish,' Hawke chimed and when Tulen gave her a queer look she added,' What? We may look like a comedy troupe but we aren't deaf. You and what’s-his-name Hissrad were having a cozy little chit-chat like two aunties reminiscing over scones and tea.'

The mage held Hawke's gaze for a while before he turned his eyes back to the Qunari by the fire and said, 'He does that with certain people. Likes to get all cards on the table so there are no surprises waiting for him.'

'Why bother? We already knew that he was the spy but why give you up? Did you piss him off or something?'

Tulen just smiled and said nothing.

A bright flare followed by a whoosh sound drew everyone's attention back to the fire.

'Gaatlok,' Fenris whistled. He flashed Isabela a glance. 'How did you get it?'

'Crazy dwarf in Amaranthine has made his own version. The Qunari tried to get their hands on his merchandise, and him, but he has gone undercover. I swiped this from his brother at...'

'Vigil’s Keep. You are talking about Dworkin!' Anders exclaimed. 'Wait a second, is this what you're doing here? Ratting out my... my not exactly friend. You can't do this!'

'Oh, I can and I will. I can do a great deal if it will get me my freedom. I would like to think that you of all people can sympathise with the notion.' Isabela hissed back.

'I don't rat out my friends, you...'

'Yeah, that's not it. False alarm!' The grey giant called out to them.

'What?' Isabela shouted back. 'We all saw it go poof just now.'

'Oh, Gaatlok doesn't go poof, it goes kapow.'

'But Fenris just said...'

'While I have no doubt the Blue Ghost of Seheron knows all there is to know about how to kill people in inventive and effective ways, I doubt he has ever handled Gaatlok. I, on the other hand, have and I'm telling that's not it,' the tall Qunari explained patiently with a curt nod into Fenris direction. Fenris mimicked the gesture.

Isabela huffed, 'So what now?'

'Now, we can all go our separate ways. You're free.'

'I am?' Isabela asked.

'Truth be told, the whole thing in Kirkwall has been a bit of an embarrassment for my people. We would rather pretend it never happened and since it never happened, we have no reason to hold a grudge against you, or you for that matter,' the Qunari pointed at Hawke.

'So this whole thing was what, a ruse?' Isabela asked angrily.

Tulen just shrugged, 'Don't look at me, you approached us remember? You were so keen to get the Qunari off your back that it never occurred to you to check whether they were still riding it.' 

'Too busy lying on it,' Anders muttered under his breath.

'I heard that, Andraste's flaming arse, have you always been this bitchy?'

'Only with people who are trying to get my friends killed,' Anders spat back, bristling with righteous anger.

Isabela's retort died on her lips, she paused, frowned then looked at Hawke and must have found in the other woman's expression whatever she had been searching because she abruptly turned on her heel and said, 'Not quite a pleasure doing business boys, but we must be off.'

'Agreed,' the grey giant replied, 'as much as I would love to get to know you all better, my boys are waiting and we are expected in Ayesleigh.' With that the warrior heaved his axe over his shoulder and walked over to Tulen. He rested his free hand on the slighter man's shoulder and gave it a friendly squeeze, 'Callidor, we'll always have Minrathous.'

Tulen burst out laughing and patted the other's arm in a friendly gesture before he gave him a gentle shove. 'It was good to see you again, Hissrad.'

'Likewise,' Hissrad replied. He turned to Fenris and gave him a wave with his hand that almost looked like a salute, 'Until we meet again, Blue Ghost.'

'What makes you think we will meet again?' Fenris asked.

The Qunari looked back over his shoulder when he replied, 'Just a feeling,' before he disappeared between the trees and into the night.

'And as for you... Tulen? Where did he go?' Isabela looked around but the elven mage seemed to have vanished when no one was paying him any attention.

'Who cares, let's just go,' Hawke said wearily.

'Yes,' Fenris agreed. 'Anders?'

Confused over the sudden shift, Anders just stared at Fenris in incomprehension. It must have shown because Fenris expression softened when he asked, 'Will you please accompany us back to Felicidad?'

Anders shook his head as if he was trying to shake the residue anger off before he replied, 'Yes, yes. of course. I need answers, and correct me if I am wrong, but I think that you can provide them?'

Fenris visibly swallowed as he fought back the impulse to take his lover's hand and settled for simply saying, 'I can.'

'Then lead the way,' Anders replied, a hopeful smile playing around his lips.

'I'm not done with you, you little fennec! Do you hear me, Tulen?' Isabela shouted into the darkness as their little party set off.

When they had gone, the elf known as Tulen stepped into the light of the dying embers, 'Oh, I'm not done with you either.'

 

TBC


	10. Blood and Justice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hawke is cool. Isabela has a big mouth. Sad Fenris is sad and Anders gets the right and the wrong idea.

'He didn't glow,' Isabela hissed to Hawke as they trailed behind Anders' and Fenris' back to the village.

'I know,' Hawke replied just as quietly.

'Why didn't he glow?'

'That I don't know yet but I am willing to bet that it's for the same reason why he can't remember us.'

'You mean he... is that even possible?'

Hawke just shook her head. 'Let's just get back to the inn for now.'

'But...'

'Later, now is not the time. But I will find out, and then I'll fix it.'

Isabela chuckled and threw an arm around the other woman's shoulder.

'It's what I do,' Hawke smirked as the lights of Felicidad came into view.

~*~

They walked the rest of the path in silence until they reached the inn where they were greeted and fussed over by Franco and Paola. Two rooms were prepared for them while they finished off stew and beer.

They had settled around a table in the back of the inn. Anders ate and drank and quietly observed his new companions from beneath his blonde bangs, trying not to look too obvious as he watched and wondered how they fitted into his life.

The pirate, the rogue and the warrior sounded like the beginning of a great joke. 'But I am the punchline,' Anders thought wryly. They claimed to be his friends but so far all they had done was boss and toss him around and expected him to take it.

The rogue, tall, dark haired, not beautiful but striking. When she spoke her voice was all confidence. She moved like a skilled fighter and she clearly was the leader of the group. Anders bet even the poxy pirate fell into line when Hawke put her foot down.

Speaking of that backstabbing she-devil, something about that bosom and that voice seemed oddly familiar. The way she moved and laughed, the cringe-worthy innuendo. Something... The Pearl! Yes, of course, Denerim.

Oh.

Only one way to be sure though. The woman he remembered had a half-moon crescent birthmark on her left hip, just underneath the bone. The other girl that night, the one with the tattoo had called her, what did she call her? Oh yes: the crescent goddess. Mh. Her legs ought to be exposed under the table given what she was wearing or more to the point, not wearing.

'Butterfingers,' Anders announced and ducked under the table to retrieve his spoon.

'I knew it!' Anders crowed.

Instantly, three more heads appeared under the table.

'Found what you were looking for?' Isabela drawled and opened her legs wide, leaving nothing to the imagination. Anders muttered a foul curse when he banged his head on the underside of the table.

The pirate nearly fell out of her chair laughing. Hawke smirked into her beer and Fenris fixed him with a narrow-eyed frown that prompted Anders to hold up his spoon as exhibit A in his defence until the frown vanished to be replaced by squinty eyes and pursed lips the likes you would see on the face of someone who was trying very hard not to laugh.

'Idiots,' Anders muttered fondly, suppressing the urge to grin despite his aching head.

'Oh, come on, you love us,' Isabela said good naturedly and like a spell the mirth drained away in an instant. 'That is, you used to,' the pirate added but promptly closed her mouth when she saw Fenris staring firmly at the table top. 'Bugger, I'm sorry.'

'There is food on the table, maybe it can find a better home in your mouth, Isabela,' Hawke said angrily. A hurt look flashed in the pirate's eyes but she obediently picked up her spoon and continued to eat in silence.

'So I was right about her,' Anders thought quietly. He idly hoped he would never find himself on Hawke's bad side. He was willing to bet that was not a side that ever came out on top. Anders almost felt sorry for Isabela.

Figures that the most obnoxious person was the one he remembered but then again it didn't really count because he had met her even before he had become a Grey Warden before... before what? Why couldn't he remember? Maybe he suppressed the memory because all these women had done so far was boss him around.

The only one who had been nice to him was the tosser. No, better rephrase that: the strong warrior, yes, that was better. Very strong and handsome and somehow sad. Not the time, so not the time. It was clear though that he and the elf had a history. Fenris was still staring at the table after Isabela's remark as if he could blame it for all that was going wrong in his life right now. He was most certainly not looking at Anders, the one he had tracked all day and rescued from being cleaved in half by a Qunari spy.

“ _I don't care as long as you're safe.”_

Definitely history. Just then Fenris lifted his head and Anders felt his stomach drop.

“ _You used to love us.”_

Of an intimate nature. Maker's mercy, this was wrong. Maybe it was for the best if tried to pretend all was well and he hadn’t cottoned on to anything so far. Fenris didn't look like someone ready to deal with the situation and neither was Anders.

'Food's good, isn't it?' Anders said with feint enthusiasm and whether they were humouring him or gratefully leapt at the opportunity to move on from this awkward moment, they all mumbled their agreement as eating and drinking resumed.

But Anders mind was spinning. Maybe this wasn't wrong, not _wrong_ wrong but weird. Surreal, like a walk in the Fade but he was sure that this was the real world because his feet ached, his back twinged and the headache he had had since this morning was not abating despite all attempts on his side to soothe it away with healing magic. If anything any drawing on his abilities seemed to intensify the throbbing in his temples.

And what was this new found strength? Mages developed more power over time if skills were properly honed but he had never heard of anyone who went from nothing to earthquake in eight years at least not without...

Anders froze spoon half-way to his mouth. Had he...? No, impossible he would never go there. Never, no matter how desperate he was, and yes, Rolan had made him fucking desperate but...

'Is everything okay here?' Paola's voice startled Anders so much, he dropped the spoon into his bowl.

If anyone had noticed, they did a good job pretending they hadn't that was until Anders felt the nudge under the table. He looked up into shimmering, green eyes that made his heart twinge. _'Oh Maker, I can't do this,'_ Anders thought.

Steeling himself, he gave the white haired warrior what he hoped would pass for a reassuring smile and picked up the spoon again. Anders could feel the other watching him for a few more seconds before Fenris shifted his attention elsewhere.

Blood magic? It would explain the memory loss, the headache, the surge in power. It would explain everything except that Anders was pretty sure that he was still himself, minus a few years perhaps, but still irrevocably Anders.

He shovelled the stew into his mouth without tasting it. He barely took note when the bowls were cleared away and new tankards appeared. His thoughts circled like scavengers around a rotting corpse.

If he was a blood mage, the best thing he could do for these people was to get away from them as fast as possible because either he would kill them when he finally turned into an abomination, or he would kill them in self-defence when they found out what he really was and came for his head.

He had to know for sure but he couldn't do this here. No matter which way he turned all roads pointed to the exit.

~*~

Most customers had already gone home to bed except for what looked like some die hard regulars who were nursing their tankards pretty much oblivious to the rest of the world. It was as private as it was going to get.

'So, we can't put it off any longer and since our friend here has already dropped the proverbial shoe, let's talk about your memory...,' Hawke began as subtle as a blow from a High Dragon's tail.

'Actually, I was thinking maybe we could talk about it in the morning. I.. I think I need to sleep,' Anders said, adding a feint yawn to prove his point as he pushed away from the table and stood up.

'I thought you wanted some answers?' Hawke asked back, narrowing her eyes in suspicion.

'Yes. Yes, I do but it's been a long day. Very long and... hey, maybe I feel better tomorrow, might even remember something, you for example?' Anders fidgeted with a nervous smile but avoiding everyone's direct gaze.

'You know that's not going to happen,' Fenris voice was quiet but the words rang in Anders' ears like a chantry bell. He stared at the white haired elf, shocked and somewhat hurt.

'You don't know that. I thought you cared about me?' Anders blurted out.

Fenris looked at him for a long time before he replied. 'Yes, more than you know.'

'I...' Anders began. How could he possibly tell them? How could he tell Fenris? His friend. _His lover. '_ _Maker, he is my lover and I don't know him.'_ The thought struck Anders so hard he took a step backward. He had to get out of here.

But Hawke had gotten to her feet. She walked closer until she stood right in front of him.

'Where is Justice?' Hawke's voice felt like a blast of ice wave to the chest.

Anders stared at her wide eyed. How did she know? How could she know about him? What had Justice to do with his memory?

_The sounds of the forest around him became distractedly louder as he remembered another forest, not like this one, darker, older, colder._

Justice.

_"I never thought the world of mortals would be so beautiful."_

Where was Justice?

“ _You speak of demons. I am not a demon.”_

Justice.

“ _Why do you not strike a blow against your oppressors? Ensure they can do this to no one else?”_

Justice.

“ _Apathy is a weakness.”_

Justice.

_"It is time. You have shown me an injustice greater than any I have faced. Do you have the courage to accept my aid?_

Someone screamed.

'What...'

'Hawke...'

'No, I'll do it.'

'Fenris...'

'Tomorrow.'

A door slammed shut and Anders sank into darkness.

TBC

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anders passes out a lot in this story. All that blood loss probably.


	11. May you get what you deserve

Anders surfaced from the depth of unconsciousness to the sound of water splashing and the unmistakable crack of a log breaking up in the fireplace.

He kept his eyes closed because his head was throbbing and the heat of the room did nothing to help. Instinctively, he raised his fingers to his temples and channelled cooling healing magic only to cry out in pain. The touch of magic stung like hot needles.

'Maker, what...'

Anders flinched as he felt someone sit down next to him on the bed and soon after a cold and wet cloth was draped over his eyes and forehead. 'Calm down, mage, it's just me,' Fenris said reassuringly.

'Mmh,' Anders groaned softly. The coolness helped to ease the pain somewhat, not like magic but it would have to do.

'I just don't understand what's wrong with me,' Anders sighed but a voice inside his head said, _'You dabbled in blood magic and now you are fucked that's what. But I don't know that for sure. What else could it be?'_

Anders' morose inner monologue was interrupted when the bed moved as Fenris got up. The soft sound of bare feet on wooden floor and the creaking of leather and clinking of buckles told Anders that the elf was taking his armour off.

 _'I bet he looks magnificent,'_ Anders thought dreamily, happily focusing his mind on something other than _'I might be a blood mage'_.

'No, leave that where it is,' Fenris commanded as Anders was about to take the wet rag off his face to ogle.

'It's nothing I haven't seen before. Who knows it might jog my memory,' Anders drawled in what he thought was his seductive voice and regretted it as the silence stretched.

'I mean...,' he began but Fenris interrupted him.

'So you have, but you still can't remember me, can you?'

Anders took a deep breath, suddenly glad he had that rag on his face like a barrier in a chantry confession chamber. You could just talk and unburden yourself without all the wonderful complexity of communication including body language and eye contact. Just a disembodied voice with ears. Anders made a face as the image of a darkspawn all teeth and giant ears popped into this head.

'Every time I try to remember my head explodes into angry, painful stars,' he confessed into the room. He could hear the water splashing again.

Fenris said nothing so naturally Anders felt compelled to fill the silence. 'I mean I remember being in a forest in Fereldan and my friend Justice is there and the next thing I know is I wake up in your bed,' and after a brief moment of hesitation he corrected himself, 'our bed.'

'But I don't know that it is our bed and it takes me the better part of the day to find out that I am in Rivain and, oh yes, eight years have passed. Eight. Years.' Anders suddenly noticed that his voice had gotten angrier and louder with every word. Thankfully, the room did not start to shake this time. One earthquake per day was probably enough.

_Maker, I can start earthquakes. What have I done?_

With an impatient sigh, Anders grabbed the rag and tossed it away from him. He blinked a few times and rubbed his eyes with his hands as he sat up.

This was a different room than the one he had woken up earlier in the day. It wasn't spacious but fit a double bed under a window that you could only get in from one side, a fireplace, small round table and two chairs, and a dresser next to the door, his coat lay on top of it.

'I'm s...' Anders started but stopped mid-apology.

Fenris stood naked in front of the fireplace. The light of the flames reflected on dark skin, shadows and lyrium tattoos painting the picture of a warrior god, outlining every muscle as if chiselled out of dark marble.

After a long appreciative silence Anders said sincerely, 'Fenris, I am so very, very sorry I can't remember you. And I mean _very_. How does it... I mean how do you feel? Because I feel so very sorry. Did I mention very?'

Fenris turned from the fire and padded over to where Anders was sitting on the side of the bed. He sat down on his haunches in front of the mage. He smelled faintly of olive oil most likely from the soap he had used to wash himself.

He didn't touch Anders but looked at him openly with those gorgeous green eyes and Anders felt his own heart break because he saw grief and fear and fury. And love. Anders could not remember seeing it directed at him but he had seen it in the eyes of lovers he had been privileged to observe over the years.

And here it was. All for him and he couldn't even remember what he had done to deserve it.

_'But I don't deserve it. I'm evil. I'm a blood mage. How can you love me?'_ He couldn't say it out loud, the words dying in his throat. 

He hadn't noticed that he was crying until a tear splashed on the back of his hand. Shocked, he raised it to eye level and stared at the tiny drop until Fenris reached out and gently wiped it away with his thumb, taking all of Anders hand into his own and carefully pulling him into an embrace.

The fire and their sometimes hitched breathing were the only sounds in the room as they held each other. Eventually, Fenris broke the silence, 'Anders, your beard is scratchy.'

Anders chuckled and untangled himself from the other, wiping away the last remnants of tears and pretending not to see Fenris doing the same.

'It's overdue,' the mage admitted scratching the bristles on his chin.

Fenris got up and walked to a chair by the fireplace. He made a motion with his head that suggested Anders should take a seat.

Almost tripping over his own boots that stood next to the bed, Anders made it to the chair in one piece and sat down.

'Take your shirt off,' Fenris commanded and added when Anders gave him a sly look, 'To use your own words, it's nothing I haven't seen before, and besides I doubt you feel like doing laundry tonight should I get shaving soap all over your tunic.'

'You could use a towel,' Anders retorted coyly.

'Don't have a towel.' Fenris replied and just looked at him, slightly cocking his head until Anders tried and failed to hide his grin as he stripped off the garment in question after all.

The grin slipped off his face as he noticed the patch of grey hair on his chest. 'Eight years have wreaked havoc. Look at this!'

'Don't know, I think you're still okay to look at,' Fenris said dryly but burst out laughing as Anders shot him a look of sheer exasperation.

'Maybe I'm suppressing my memory because my lover is an insufferable prick.'

For a second Anders worried he might have ruined the mood because Fenris had stopped laughing but it became apparent pretty fast that the elf was still feeling playful when the foamy shaving brush was not so gently shoved into Anders' nose.

The mage swatted at his lover and sneezed before he tried to slap the elf again but Fenris admonished him to hold still or else the brush could end up in other places Anders would not want it to go.

Anders relaxed as Fenris methodically worked, he didn’t even flinch when the elf stood in front of him, shaving blade in hand, the light of the fire glinting on the steel. Just at that moment it hit Anders like a flash of lightning that Fenris would never hurt him. He had no way of knowing this but he felt it with every fibre of his being.

The feeling grew stronger with every gentle stroke of the blade against his skin. The way he moved, the way he smelled, the way he touched. The second Fenris had put the blade down, Anders hand snaked around Fenris' wrist and pulled the other into his lap. They hesitated for the briefest of moments before they kissed.

Lust had always come easy to Anders and Fenris felt wonderful. So strong, so warm, he wondered whether he could stand up with the elf straddling him and walk over to the bed; spreading the gorgeous warrior out under him, to get lost in him for a few blissful hours, to just run away from all those fears and worries and just feel free for a while.

But alas, Fenris broke the kiss and thus the spell as he jumped up, 'No, not like this. We can't.'

The elf was right of course. 'I'm sorry. This isn't fair on you. I shouldn't have done that not when this means so much more to...' Anders cut himself off before he made the situation worse by spelling out the obvious.

_Not just a blood mage but also a total arsehole._ _Fuck, for all intense and purpose Fenris was grieving him. Anders might as well have died for all the difference it would make_ _to the other_ _but he was taunting the poor guy by still walking and talking and taking advantage of him._ _How much lower could he sink?_

'Maker, I'm so sorry, Fenris. Please forgive me. Maybe... maybe we should stay away from each other until we have figured out what's going on?'

'We know what's going on, Anders.' Fenris replied with a pained expression on his face.

'We do?'

The warrior took a deep breath, closed his eyes and slowly exhaled before he spoke. 'You were an abomination for the past eight years.'

'I... what? You knew this whole time? Here I am worrying myself sick and you... what did happen?

'You were the host of a dem... spirit of Justice, only it had turned into a demon of Vengeance by the time you had figured out how to separate you two. We confronted him in the Fade and when you woke up, you had lost the past eight years.'

Anders covered his open mouth with his hand, his whole body was shaking, no, not just his body.

'Anders! Anders, calm down.' Fenris held the mage's face in both hands and spoke to him urgently.

The rattling of furniture abated and as if the whole day repeated itself, the door to the room flew open and Hawke and Isabela jumped into the room, blades drawn.

'It's fine. We are fine. I told him that's all. Just leave us be,' Fenris yelled at them a little more harshly than perhaps necessary. Hawke just nodded and dragged Isabela with her before the pirate had a chance to open her mouth.

'What's happening to me?' Anders whispered into the silence that followed their departure.

'We don't know yet,' Fenris said but added more softly while cupping Anders cheek, 'but we'll figure it out.'

Anders nuzzled into the warmth of the elf's hand and instantly hated himself for it, 'I don't deserve you.'

'Don't say that, you give as good as you get on most days,' Fenris said softly.

'How can you say that?' Anders replied heatedly, 'Fenris, I'm a blood mage.' The chair crashed to the floor when the blonde man jumped up to escape the luring warmth and comfort that the other offered him so freely.

'You are not a blood mage,' Fenris replied calmly.

'I'm not?'

'I would not share your bed if you were. I used to be a slave to a Tevinter magister. It was he who forced the lyrium into my skin with blood magic. The pain was so intense I lost all memory prior to the event and I still can only recall bits and pieces form my childhood. After I had escaped from Danarius, he hunted me relentlessly until you and Hawke helped me kill him. Trust me, you are not a blood mage.'

'I'm not a blood mage,' Anders repeated slowly. He was so relieved he had to sit down on the bed. Until that moment he had not realised how tense he had been, how worried and how much he had begun to hate himself. It felt as if the weight of world had been lifted off his shoulders.

'But then how...,' but Fenris cut him off by saying, 'Let's just sleep for now and tomorrow we can figure out what to do.'

'Sleep? What here, with you?' Anders asked bewildered and not at all sure he would be able to trust himself no matter how emotionally drained he was. Fenris did look tired though.

'I can go somewhere else if you'd rather be alone but you need to promise me not to run off again. I don't think I can stomach another day like today.'

Anders felt his heart sink. He was causing this beautiful elf nothing but heartache and trouble but still in his selfish heart he could think of nothing he would rather do than curl up with the other in this bed tonight so he said, 'No, stay. Please stay. It's fine. I want you to. But you and I, we, that is you're...'

'Just sleep, Anders. My small-clothes are still wet but I'm sure I can behave myself for one night, I trust you can do the same,' Fenris said with a hint of sarcasm.

'I would be too tired at this point anyway,' Anders replied earnestly.

'Ah, old age,' Fenris nodded sagely and got a pillow in the face for his mockery.

Chuckling the elf climbed under the covers, Anders decided to stay on top of them just to be safe. After a while and when he was certain Fenris had fallen asleep, the mage turned over to look at his sleeping lover.

 _'Gorgeous,'_ Anders thought and just before sleep claimed him as well, _'I really don't know what I have done to deserve you but I hope I can make it up to you. I want to remember you, Fenris.'_

TBC


	12. Tactile headway

Sunlight filtered through the cracks of the shutters when Fenris woke up, turned and smiled. Anders was snoring softly next to him as if the last two days had never happened.

For a moment Fenris allowed himself the illusion that all was well. In a few minutes his lover would wake but keep his eyes closed. He would reach out for him to pull Fenris into his arms and try to go back to sleep for as long as the warrior would be willing to indulge him.

They would doze for a while until Fenris would get restless. They would ignore all the disgusting mortal things like morning breath and the need to follow the call of nature and kiss lovingly.

But not today nor any day hereafter. ' _Three years of love erased by Vengeance,_ ' Fenris thought bitterly. He sighed and buried his face in the lumpy pillow to stifle the scream of frustration that wanted to get out.

'Morning,'

Fenris jerked his head up to look at Anders who was trying to hide a huge yawn behind the back of his hand.

'I'm starving,' the blonde man mumbled while rubbing his eyes.

'You are a Grey Warden,' Fenris pointed out. He had learned early on that with Grey Warden stamina came a Grey Warden appetite.

Anders looked at Fenris surprised, shocked even. They both reached the inevitable conclusion of the statement but before Fenris could find the right words, Anders said, 'Well, I have twenty or so more years to look forward to. Nothing to worry about, spilled milk and all that. Well, shall we go find breakfast?'

'Hey,' Fenris reached for Anders wrist before the blonde man could escape and gently pulled him back down. Anders could have resisted easily but clearly decided not to.

 _'I know you,'_ Fenris thought while holding his lover's gaze. Anders was trying to grin but failed miserably. _'I don't care what the witch said, what Vengeance said. You are the man I fell in love with and I will stand by your side. I swore an oath you can't remember but I shall remember it for the both of us.'_

To prove himself right, Fenris reached for Anders' cheek and gently stroked the now smooth skin. The man he knew adored touch. Sometimes when they were fighting and words would only get in their way, they would settle their dispute by touch alone. A caress, an embrace, silent apologies in lieu of a thousand words. Varric once said that this what not the right way to go about resolving dispute but it was their way and that was that.

Fenris heart fluttered when Anders leaned into the touch and closed his eyes with a small sigh, and just as with the mage last night, the warrior felt a world of sorrow lifted off his shoulders.

'We will figure this out. There has to be a way. There is always a way, you taught me that,' Fenris said softly.

Anders put his hand over Fenris' and squeezed it gently. He kept his eyes closed when he said, 'I really don't deserve you.'

'Stop saying that,' Fenris admonished and unable to resist any more leaned in to brush his lips over Anders'. He knew he shouldn't but this was the man he loved and he could feel Anders' desire for him. It rolled over him like a wave pulling and drawing him in like the tide.

When Anders parted his lips to allow Fenris tongue to brush over his, the warrior forgot all his reservations and pulled the blonde man back onto the bed until he could roll on top of him. Anders moaned into the kiss, his hands greedily exploring Fenris' skin.

'I need to go, right now!' Isabela's voice even drowned out the banging of the door as she stepped boldly into their room.

'Oh my, look at you. Has you memory returned?' Isabela asked unashamedly.

'Haven't you ever heard of knocking?' Anders asked, clearly frustrated.

'Yes, as in knocking heads together which is exactly what I need to do, now. A raven arrived this morning, my ship is on fire. On fire, guys. I got to go.'

'Why are you telling us?'

'I was trying to be polite,' Isabela said airily, 'but evidently there is no pleasing some people.'

'There would have been before you barged in here like a rabid bronto,' Anders growled back.

Fenris sighed in frustration and got out of bed, completely unconcerned by Isabela's presence. He ignored her catcall as he pulled on his smallclothes but Anders barked at her to get lost.

'Nothing I haven't seen before, sweet thing,' Isabela drawled which resulted in Anders shooting Fenris a questioning look which the warrior met with a shrug.

'When you travel together as often as we have with Hawke, you end up seeing each other naked at some point. Besides you are one to talk, you slept with her,' Fenris pointed out as he proceeded to put on his armour.

Anders gaped at the elf before he asked,'You know about that?'

Fenris just sighed and said, 'It was before we had even met. You can't remember this now but we agreed not to get worked up about who has slept with whom before we... before we... At any rate, I prefer to sleep with you rather than waste my time tracking down every being you have ever shagged with.'

'No kidding, you would probably die of old age before you had tracked them all down,' Isabela quipped.

Before Anders could even open his mouth, Fenris replied, 'Pirates in glass houses should not throw stones and why are you still here, don't you have a ship to save?'

'Going. Hawke is staying by the way. She wants to help sort out Anders unless of course it's no longer an issue. Has your memory returned now or not?'

'Not,' Anders replied sourly.

'Well, I guess she will be staying with you then. She is after all the Champion. But, Anders,' Isabela said in a serious voice that made the mage look up from tying his boots, 'I do hope you find a way to remember, for both of your sakes.' And then she was gone.

Anders stared at the Isabela-shaped empty air for a few seconds before he resumed putting on his boots, 'Well, that was oddly sweet.'

'Yes, she does that,' Fenris replied as he strapped his sword to his back. 'Are you ready?'

'No, but I guess we have no choice. Lead the way.'

Fenris smiled to himself as he heard Anders mumble 'cock-blocking poxy pirate' under his breath.

TBC


	13. Gram

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I won't be able to keep this brutal pace going but I also really want to finish this. It's all done in my head and it wants to come out, badly. So stay tuned and thank you in advance for R&R.

Hawke was waiting for them at the same table they had occupied the previous night. She was pursing her lips in an effort not to grin but obviously couldn't contain herself any longer when she asked, 'So, I hear you have gotten reacquainted already. Good for you.'

Anders and Fenris exchanged a fleeting glance, trying very hard not to grin, before they sat down.

'But still no memory?'

'Still no memory,' Anders confirmed.

'And you can set off earthquakes when you get upset?' Hawke asked.

'It appears so. Since I woke up I...'

'Breakfast for everyone! Oh Anders, you have to stop giving us all such a fright, always passing out on the floor like that. Fenris, you need to look after him better, I keep telling you!' Paola actually dared to smack Fenris on the back of his head. Hawke and Anders stared at her wide eyed but Fenris just rubbed the spot and replied, 'Yes, I know.'

Paola clicked her tongue, planted a quick kiss on the top of Anders' hair and headed back to the kitchen to shout at Franco no doubt.

Anders pointedly started to eat his Gachas whereas Hawke raised an eyebrow at Fenris that spoke volumes. The warrior just shrugged and said, 'She has a point.' Anders pretended that the warm feeling in his chest came from the delicious food and had nothing to do with Fenris' obvious protective streak where he was concerned.

They all ate their breakfast before Hawke shoved her empty bowl away and resumed the conversation.

'So, tell me exactly what happened and then we will figure out how to fix it. Agreed?'

'Agreed,' Fenris replied.

Anders just looked from one to the other wondering for the umpteenth time what he had done to deserve these people in his life. This was all going to go horribly wrong. Didn't they have a shred of self-preservation in them?

'Well, thank you. I mean it, really. But I don't want to get you in any more trouble. I have experience in getting out of tight spots, this shouldn't be any different. I'll, I'll eat up and then go and find someone who knows something and...' Anders words died as he looked into Fenris' eyes. Green, shimmering and obviously hurt that he had not factored the elf's feeling into his plan. Anders' heart sank. _'For Maker's sake, I just keep hurting you. I'm an idiot,'_ he thought morosely.

'See, I can't tell whether you are trying to be chivalrous or trying to weasel out of it. That's new, interesting,' Hawke mused. 'But you're stuck with us like it or not.'

'Yes,' Fenris agreed and shot Anders a look that said and don't even think about getting away.

'You make it sound like I'm your prisoner now? Could have stayed in the tower if I wanted someone to watch over me twenty-four hours a day.' He had meant to say it light-heartedly but Fenris response told him that it had come out all wrong.

'You are not my prisoner. I care about you and I will protect you even from yourself if necessary.'

The warm glow that Fenris' confession stirred in Anders heart was immediately overpowered by the implication that he couldn't take care of himself.  
'I am a grown man who wields the power that can set off earthquakes. I have escaped the Templars more than half a dozen times. I have apparently also managed to get away from the Grey Wardens, and if you had ever met Warden Commander Sereda Aeducan, the Hero of Fereldan, you would understand how grand an achievement that is in itself. I can handle whatever shit comes flying my way, understand?'

Fenris slammed his spoon on the table, fixed Anders with a stare and held up his hand. He raised a finger for every single point he was making.

'One, you have no idea how to use your new powers, you are as scared of them as everyone else. Two, the Templars got you back every single time, not much of an accomplishment there. Three, you escaped the Wardens with the help of a demon who took all your memory when we, yes we, not just you, but you and I defeated him in the Fade. I could go on but I think I have made my point. Face it already, you need someone in your life to keep you from being your own worst enemy.'

Anger and embarrassment fought for the upper hand. How dare he, how dare this elf suggest he was some sort of infantile moron who could only barely wipe his own arse!

'You are as bad as the Templars,' Anders spat back, 'I think I will take my leave now before I completely lose my temper and level Felicidad to the ground.'

Anders was already half-way out of his seat when he heard Fenris say, 'I love you.' Anders sat back down because he had no choice in that matter, his knees had decided it was time for a rest. He could do nothing but sit and stare at the elf with wide eyes. He had known that the other loved him of course, not as an absolute certainty, but everything the elf had said and done had implied as much. _'Maker, just the way he looks at me like I am the only other being in the world,'_ Anders thought. Still, hearing it out loud felt like a punch in the gut, and it didn't get easier to hear when Fenris repeated the statement.

'I love you that's why I want to protect you. The Anders who has forgotten me understood that.'

Anders squeezed his eyes shut. His stomach ached and he felt he might be sick on the table which would be so undignified but as with so many other things that had happened in the past day, he may not get a choice in that matter. He had not expected being loved would hurt this much.

It seemed that in the past eight years he had found exactly what he had always been looking for: someone he could be free with, even if that meant being tied to that person forever. And now all he could do was to hurt this person over and over again because he had destroyed his memory through yet another ill-conceived attempt to escape his fate. He had to break this bond or else he would cause Fenris nothing but pain, and he really didn't want to.

When he was sure he could open his mouth to speak he finally said, 'But I am not that man, Fenris.'

Instead of the anger and denial he had expected, Fenris simply took his hand and said very calmly, 'I have reason to believe that you are that man, more now than ever. I fell in love with the man who cared about others to the point of self-denial, who when there is no place left to run turns and fights with every last breath. I love the man who believes that everyone deserves to be free.'

Anders shook his head in denial of what he was hearing, this was definitely proof that Fenris had met and loved a completely different man but before Anders could proclaim as much Fenris said, 'He is also the man who argues with me about the colour of the sky and the rights of mages, who regularly gives me food poisoning and has a terrible sense of humour and who is a stubborn, infuriating hedonist who prefers to run away from his problems.'

Well, that did sound more like him and yet Fenris was looking at him with those loving, green eyes.

'I know who you are and I love you. You are a good man and if instead of glowing blue you now make the earth shake when you get upset, I'm sure I can live with that if you can. I know that right now I am barely more than a stranger to you so all I'm asking is that you stay with me and help us try to find out whether we can reverse what Vengeance has done to you. Will you do this for me, Anders?'

'And if we can't?

'We will,' Fenris said with so much conviction that Anders almost believed him.

'I... I will need some time to think about what you said. But you're right, running won't bring my memory back. You saved my life and I owe you this much. I promise,' Anders muttered back.

'Take all the time you need, I'm not going anywhere.'

'You are so cute I think I'm going to puke a rainbow,' Hawke drawled from the other side of the table. However, the vile comment broke the tense atmosphere and helped Anders to compose himself a bit. Fenris had let go of his hand obviously to give him some much needed space.

 _'I think I believe him,'_ Anders thought and felt his face heat up at the thought that this gorgeous elf knew him better then he knew himself, and still loved him.

'Don't be embarrassed you have done more weird shit in front of me,' Hawke said merrily which made both Fenris and Anders flinch.

'Now then,' Hawke said much more seriously, 'why don't we get to the bottom of this by you telling me what actually happened?'

They agreed that Fenris should start as he would know more essential details from before the memory loss. The warrior started by recounting everything that had happened since he had woken up alone two days ago. He glossed over the details in the Fade. There was no need to tell Anders or Hawke what Vengeance had made the mage do after their joining. Besides from Anders' point of view, it had never happened and the warrior would happily take this secret to his grave. Maybe there was even a way to restore the mage's memory without this terrifying truth, some things were better forgotten.

Anders listened intently when Fenris recalled everything Jacinta had told him about possession but despite their earlier conversation, he didn't interrupt and waited for the elf to finish.

When he was done Anders told his version of the story from the moment he had woken up in their home to the point when they had all met on Traitor's Hill.

Hawke listened and looked thoughtful before she asked, 'Anders, what do you as a professional healer know about possession? We have heard the seer's opinion – by the way, do you believe that the child could be possessed in the womb? Do we need to take care of that as well?'

Anders shook his head and said, 'I have never heard or even read about such a case. I'm not sure why she would even suspect this.'

'Oh, I do,' Fenris interjected, 'no excuse is too small to seek you out.'

'I am really popular, aren't I?' Anders said with a smug grin.

'Yes, yes, everyone loves you,' Hawke rolled her eyes at him. 'If you're done preening, can we get back on topic?'

Anders' cough sounded suspiciously like someone barking “jealous” but since it did not even get a smile out of Fenris, he composed himself quickly and said, 'I remember Connor's case. Alim, one of the circle mages who has also joined the Grey Wardens at the Keep, told me about it a few weeks ago – at least.. never mind, you know what I mean. First Enchanter Irving himself entered the Fade consciously and destroyed the demon which cured the possession but the boy claimed not to remember anything thereafter.'

'Could he have lied? I bet there were a lot of people who would have happily roasted him on a stick, earl's son or not.' Hawke asked.

Anders eye-balled the rogue, 'But it wasn't his fault, Hawke!'

She didn't even flinch and just held his gaze until Anders broke eye contact and shrugged. 'I suppose he could have lied as a means of self-preservation. However, it's more likely that the trauma triggered genuine memory loss.'

Fenris nodded, 'Yes, that would make sense.'

Anders looked at the elf. 'Yes, last night you said you can't remember your childhood because of what Dan-something...'

'Danarius.'

'What he has done to you, but that bits and pieces have come back over time, right?' Anders voice sounded hopeful.

'Yes,' Fenris said slowly. 'A lot of it came back when I met my sister for the first time in years.'

Anders contemplated the implications of that statement before he said,. 'So maybe if I go back to my roots my memory might recover?'

Hawke clicked her tongue, 'I don't know whether that's the best way to go about it. Your memory loss started long after your childhood. Also, when Fenris went back to his roots he found that his sister had sold him out to Danarius.'

'Ouch,' Anders exclaimed.

'Quite, although that way the fucking waiting ended and we had a chance to kill him.' Hawke grinned like a wolf.

'And we did,' Fenris added with an equally scary smile.

Anders automatically leaned back in his chair. 'Yes, you said,' he replied hesitantly. 'I don't particularly relish the thought of running into Walter, I must say. Although zapping the bastard a few times in his Templar-kissing arse might give me a feeling of smug satisfaction.'

'Who is that?' Hawke asked.

'My...'

'His uncle,' Fenris interjected.

Anders shot Fenris a puzzled look, 'No, he is my _father_.'

'Actually, he isn't,' Fenris corrected.

Anders frowned but before he could argue the other said, 'Before you ask, we went to the Anderfels about two years ago and we learned some interesting things about your lineage.'

Anders gaped at Fenris. 'Well, tell me!'

'Are you certain, you want to know?'

'Yes, you said it yourself, your memory came back when you saw your sister so the way I see it the more you tell me the more I have a chance to remember.'

'But it might be too great a shock. Aren't you a healer, shouldn't you know about these things?' Hawke asked with a frown.

'Yes, I am a healer, and as the healer I say: tell me!'

'You always wondered about your name, your real name, right?' Fenris began only to be interrupted by Hawke.

'Hold it, you _know_ his real name? Varric used to run bets. If I remember correctly, it was a close race between “Hagen von Tronje” and “Siegfried Drachentöter”. Did we even get close? Come on tell me, I want to cash in. My money was on “Brunhild Brummelbart”.

Anders shot the rogue a sour look. 'That's a girl's name, Hawke, and an awful one at that. Andraste's arse, you bet on my name? Don't you people have anything better to do?'

'No. If you are keeping it a big secret people will get creative and make shit up. It's only natural,' Hawke said matter of factly.

Anders grumbled under his breath. He hated his name, he hated to talk about, he hated what it meant. He _liked_ being Anders. In his native tongue “ _anders_ ” meant “ _different_ ” and that suited him just fine. He had always thought of himself as special.

But Hawke didn't look like she was going to let this go now so he gave in. 'I always wondered why Walter hated me so much to give me a name that means “ _sorrow_ ”, yes.'

Hawke still looked at him with that manic half grin, half questioning look. 'My name is Gram rhymes with “ _harm_ ” when you pronounce it correctly. It literally means “ _sorrow_ ” in my native tongue.'

'Mmh yes, that is a bit sad, literally,' Hawke admitted. Anders and Fenris groaned, Hawke had the worst sense of humour.

'He gave you that name because he felt you were partially responsible for his brother's, his _apostate_ brother's, death,' Fenris said, carefully watching Anders body language and ready to hold him should he decide to run. Running away had always been Anders default reaction to stress but it seemed to be even more pronounced since the memory loss. Promise or no promise, Fenris wasn't going to take any chances.

But Anders didn't look like he was about to run. He just sat and breathed heavily through the nose before he asked through clenched teeth, 'You are telling me that Ansgar, my dead uncle, is really my father, and that he was an apostate? I wasn't even born, how could his death be my fault? And why the fuck did Walter toss me to the Templars when I came into my magic if he cared so much about Ansgar?'

'Because he couldn't protect his brother from getting killed by magic but he figured that the circle training might help.'

'Nug shit, he hated me every fucking minute of every fucking day. It must have been like Saturnalia come early when I burned the barn down. He never dared kill me but he sure was glad to hand me over to the Templars,' Anders was yelling at Fenris who just met his anger with an infuriating calm.

'Shh, Anders, keep it down or do you want to set off another earthquake which by the way we still haven't explored as a weird side effect of whatever the fuck happened to you,' Hawke hissed.

Anders buried his face in his hands and took a deep breath. This was just too surreal. Fenris was basically saying that the abusive arsehole was trying to protect him, fat chance at that. 'No, Fenris, Walter Bael did not want to protect me, believe me.'

'I know you don't want to believe me but Walter did feel it was the only way to stop you from harming yourself by accident. He told you himself before he died.'

'He's dead?' Anders was surprised to feel shocked by this bit of news. 'How... no wait, I don't care! I'm just pissed off I can't ask him why he gave me that shitty name.'

'Actually, we know why. Your father Ansgar and your mother Nora were in love but your grandfathers were not happy with the match. When it came to light that Nora was pregnant with you, your parents decided to elope but your mother's horse stumbled, Nora fell and the frightened mare kicked her in the stomach before she ran off. Your mother started to bleed heavily. Ansgar used all his power to save you both and by doing so died before your families could find them.  
'When Nora later explained what had happened your grandfathers made peace and it was decided that to save the honour of both families that Nora should marry Ansgar's older brother Walter. But Walter had loved his brother, had helped him to hide the fact that he was an apostate and felt that had Ansgar just saved Nora and let you die then he would have most likely survived himself, although there is no way of knowing this for certain, but Walter believed it. That's why he named you Gram.'

Anders just looked at the table and said nothing for a along time. 'Well, now I know,' he said eventually in a quiet voice.

'I know this must be a shock but I did warn you that connecting to your roots might not be the best tactic,' Hawke said with her usual sensibility.

Anders just shot her an angry look which the rogue decided to ignore when she asked, 'Anyway, your name is Gram Bael? Bael rhymes with Vael. As in Starkhaven Vael? I am just clarifying because Varric will kill me if I don't get this right.'

Anders hesitated for a moment before he muttered, 'Yes, good guess, Hawke. Apparently we have roots in the Free Marches on Walter's side? Why?'

Hawke's brows shot up, she looked at Fenris who slowly grinned and said, 'Oh yes. Two generations before the Fourth Blight a whole twig of the Vael tree made it to the Anderfels for reasons lost to history where over time they became the Bael family. Our Anders is in fact a distant cousin of Prince Sebastian Vael.'

Hawke said nothing and then burst out laughing so hard she fell out off her chair. Anders just stared at her a bit angry and bemused, 'What's so funny about that?'

'Wasted!' Hawke spluttered between giggle fits. 'Wasted, please tell me how he reacted when he first found out.'

'Apparently, he has always known but kept it really quiet. As he said before, he really doesn't like to talk about his family.'

'No, I don't. And it didn't help,' Anders huffed still irritated by Fenris account. 'Why is the Vael tie so funny?

Hawke just lost it again so Fenris said, 'Let's just say you have met Prince Sebastian Vael and you two don't exactly see eye-to-eye about pretty much everything.'

'I still don't see why that's particularly hilarious.'

'Never mind that,' Fenris replied calmly.

'Well, at least now I know where the magic came from,' Anders conceded. 'It actually explains a lot. Did we see my mother, Nora? Is she well?'

Fenris just looked at him and said nothing.

'Oh. When?'

'Ten years ago, Winter's cough. Walter is dead, too, so there really is no point in tracking all the way to the Anderfels in hope to restore your memory, I think.'

Anders swallowed hard and closed his eyes for a moment. He suddenly felt Fenris' warm hand covering his own under the table. He opened his eyes and looked at the elf who in turn gave Anders' hand a little reassuring squeeze.

'We'll find another way,' Fenris said firmly still holding his hand.

'Yes,' said Hawke, 'and I know exactly what we'll do.'

Anders and Fenris both turned to her.

'We will track down this pretend-Dalish saarebas Qunari spy Tulen. He is mixed up in this and I want some answers.'

Fenris nodded, 'Yes, Franco said you had met with him twice before yesterday, and that the two of you had made some sort of deal.'

'What deals could I have possibly made with a Qunari spy? Mind you, he did ask me whether I had been satisfied with “services rendered”. What could that mean?' Anders wondered.

'I don't know but I'm positively dying to find out.'

'Lead the way, Hawke.'

TBC


	14. Aren't you sharp? I'm beginning to see why people want to kill you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really like this chapter! *feels pleased* I hope you do, too.

'Why do you figure Tulen knows what happened to me?' Anders asked as they walked back up the hill to Tumba de Traidor.

'I don't but I have a feeling. I always go with my feelings,' Hawke replied confidently.

After breakfast, they had asked about Tulen in Felicidad but nobody knew how to contact him or where he was staying. Franco had explained that Tulen always seemed to know when there was a message or visitor for him, and just appeared as if by magic. Franco had laughed and slapped his thighs at his own joke while Fenris, Anders and Hawke had exchanged deadpan looks.

They hadn't dared mention his Qunari ties but casually asked whether anyone in the village was in fact a follower of the Qun. Rivain was very liberal and famous for it's religious freedom but Paola and Franco had both denied that the Qun was practised in Felicidad and they had left it at that.

In lieu of any other clues they agreed to track Tulen from their last encounter. If necessary Anders could try magic although everyone agreed he should try to keep wielding magic to a minimum until they had figured out how he had become so powerful. It was clearly tied to the absence of Justice but if they wanted to know for sure they needed to find someone who could shed more light on the situation.

Anders had also lamented the loss of his staff and complained so incessantly that Hawke and Fenris agreed to go back to their home after they had found a clue about Tulen's whereabouts.

'It helps channel power which means greater control. Control would be good, right?' Anders had argued and Fenris and Hawke had agreed that control would be a step in the right direction after they had found the Qunari spy.

They reached the clearing before noon, Hawke and Fenris immediately started to look for footprints while Anders walked back to the little crater he had ripped into the forest floor by accident. The remnants of the Fennec smelled awful. Somehow the creature's head had survived the blast and the dead, beady eyes were staring accusingly back at Anders.

'Well, you shouldn't sneak up on mages like that,' Anders exclaimed in a huff which he felt was better than feeling guilty about destroying a defenceless, little forest animal and quickly turned to find Fenris.

'Any luck?' Anders asked while looking over the elf's shoulder.

'Gone. Not a trace of him. He must have covered his tracks after we had left.'

'What you mean as if by magic?' Anders said with a hint of sarcasm. It didn't work, neither Fenris nor Hawke took the bait and just seemed to ignore him.

He sighed theatrically and said, 'Well, can we go get my staff then?'

'You are hilarious, that's new too. And no, we agreed to get it after we track him down,' Hawke replied levelly. 'If we can't find Tulen, we are going to find the guy who knows where he might be. Ayesleigh is that way, right?'

'Wait, you want to go after that big guy with the horns? He tried to kill me!' Anders protested.

'I don't think he would have,' Fenris replied, 'and his camp can't have been too far away. They have a half-day head start though.'

'No, he hasn't gone far, I have a....'

'Feeling?' Anders asked sarcastically.

Hawke shot the mage a withering look but Anders saw Fenris' smirk behind the rogue's back and immediately felt ridiculously pleased with himself.

Hawke pointedly turned her back on Anders and asked Fenris, 'What's the closest village between here and Ayesleigh?

'Cadena, that's only two hours from here,' Fenris replied, all traces of mirth gone but Anders had seen it and he would treasure the moment forever. He could make Fenris laugh, maybe their situation wasn't as hopeless as it seemed.

'Then that's where we will go.'

**

'What's you first name, Hawke?' Anders asked as they walked toward Cadena.

'Are we playing twenty questions now?' Hawke asked back, apparently still sore about the quip.

But Anders had a lot of practice ignoring people who were angry at him: Templars, senior enchanters, fellow apprentices, inn keepers, casual sex partners, Nathaniel Howe. Ah, Nate! Anders briefly wondered how his fellow sourpuss Warden was doing but was afraid to ask lest he found out that Nathaniel had heard the Calling. There was only so much bad news he could stomach in a day's time.

Nathaniel's death would be devastating news. Anders had made no secret of the fact that he liked the broody type, especially when he came in such a delicious package. Why he had even stolen a few drunken, and not so drunken, kisses from the other man. He would have gladly done more but when they had gotten to the point where the tunics came off, Nate had suddenly remembered that he hated Anders. The next day the archer had volunteered to go on a long, dangerous scouting mission on the condition that Anders was not part of the party.

He hadn't seen Nathaniel since. That had been two months ago – two months and eight years. The thought was sobering. If he wasn't dead then the archer would have certainly moved on by now. Not that Anders was one to talk. He stole a quick glance at Fenris who was walking beside him.

 _'I think I can live with that.'_ The thought brightened Anders' mood considerably.

He decided it was time for more distraction before he sank into depression or would pounce on Fenris in the middle of the Rivain countryside. Neither option would bring Anders any joy at this moment, the former for obvious reasons, the latter because Hawke would kill him.

'So, is this Varric your husband?'

Hawke and Fenris snorted without slowing their pace. 'No, he isn't. He is a friend, a good friend. You liked him and he certainly likes you.'

'Oh, that's err nice.' On principle, Anders liked it when people liked him although he preferred it when he could remember that he was liked. He briefly recounted his first meeting with Paola and Franco, they had practically treated him like family but to him they might as well have been faces in a crowd. It felt weird.

Anders glanced at Fenris again. The elven warrior who was his lover. The lover he couldn't remember having however whenever he was alone with him or even just talked to him, Anders felt a connection. If pressed he would have sworn he had never met him before yesterday morning but that feeling of closeness persisted and grew stronger the more time they spent together.

Maybe it was all that protective love the gorgeous elf was showering him with but usually that would set Anders running in the opposite direction. Protectiveness usually meant that the person thought of the other as his or hers, some form of not quite ownership but close enough. Which meant that said person was committed to the relationship. However commitment spelled responsibility and need for reciprocity, and Anders was shite at both. He would be the first person to admit that.

Yes, he kept telling everyone how he wanted a beautiful wife and kids in the countryside without Templar supervision but in reality he only wanted to be free. He didn't really have a goal beyond that because free had only ever been attainable on a “let's see how long I can run” basis until they had caught him again anyway. Anders had only ever seen cages where others saw support and companionship.

But he didn't feel like a prisoner around Fenris at all. If anything the thought of getting tied up by the warrior made him curse Isabela thrice over again for interrupting their alone time this morning, Again, Anders would be the first to admit that he was a hedonist. He took pleasure where he could find it and it tended to find him often. The Maker had seen it fit to give him good looks, wit and charm which are the three things that would get you into pretty much anyone's bed if you knew how to use them. And he wanted to be in Fenris bed, he really did, but not if it meant hurting the other's feelings by giving him false hope.

Liking to be loved and wanting to get fucked did not spell happily ever after. And no one could fall in love after one day, not really not truly. Fall in lust definitely, but love?

'I take it I don't need to ask after the Knight-Captain's health?' Fenris voice, that low, sexy growl, interrupted Anders' musings.

Hawke said nothing for a long while. ' He is acting Knight-Commander Cullen these days, and no you needn't ask.'

'Who is this Cullen now?' Anders asked although he dreaded to find out that he was yet another forgotten friend.

Hawke sighed. 'The acting Knight-Commander of Kirkwall and my... ex-lover. You didn't know him very well if that's what you were wondering.'

'I was actually. You are sleeping with the Templar commander of Kirkwall? Are you sure we are friends because these two don't really go together. But then you said ex- lover. So what happened? Please don't say it's because of me. Because as much as I loathe Templars, I would not want to stand in the way of your happiness.' Anders babbled without really running the words past his brain.

Hawke stopped walking and turned to face him. 'This might surprise you but not everything is about you. And which bit of, 'you don't need to ask,' did you not understand?'

'Wow, easy there. I was just making conversation to pass the time,' Anders replied with his hands raised.

'Find another topic!' Hawke commanded, her nose almost touching Anders'.

'You didn't like “what's you first name” either!' Anders said with a defensive shrug.

Hawke just growled and resumed her walk at an even brisker pace.

'Maker's breath, is she always like this?' Anders asked Fenris when he was sure Hawke was out of earshot.

'Like what? Reacting somewhat incensed when people go and poke around in her obviously painful past?' Fenris asked back.

Anders pursed his lips and admitted, 'Point made. Sorry.'

'I'm not the one who you owe an apology,' Fenris replied.

'Don't I?' Anders wondered after a brief silence.

Fenris sighed. 'You can decide that for yourself when you have your memory back.'

Anders watched the warrior out of the corner of his eye but the other kept his gaze fixed on the horizon. It was incredible how certain Fenris seemed that they would resolve this. Not for the first time, Anders wished he had his lover's confidence but Fenris seemed to have enough for the both of them.

'We're here!' Fenris announced as the outlines of small buildings came into view.

Hawke had stopped to let them catch up and said, 'We made it in under two hours, let's find that Bull and his Chargers.'

**

Hawke's instincts had been right. The Bull's Chargers were in fact easy to find. They had made camp in Cadena's only inn.

Hissrad didn't seem at all surprised to see them, and was particularly pleased about Fenris' presence.

'Blue ghost, will you have a drink with me?'

'What now? It's not even noon!' Anders exclaimed.

'And what does that mean exactly? The Bull asked while fixing Anders with a glare.

But the mage was not to be intimidated, 'I'm a healer, I know things. Drinking on an empty stomach in the middle of the day is a bad idea.'

'Then we'll have lunch first. Come in, sit. I'll ask the kitchen to bring us some chow and beer. Will that do, healer?'

The question had been rhetorical but Anders answered anyway, 'If you insist. I could eat.'

'This isn't a social call, we have some questions about your friend Tulen,' Hawke interrupted. The Bull stopped and turned to look at her.

'So you have.' He let his eye roam over them before he just shrugged and said, 'Fine. I'll tell you after lunch. Talking on an empty stomach is also not good for you. Isn't that right, healer?'

Anders just nodded in agreement, Fenris shrugged and Hawke growled under her breath but took a seat at the nearest table.

The food was good enough for a hungry traveller but the Cerveza had clearly been watered down. Anders drank it anyway since he had not been invited to share whatever vile swill the Bull had brought to the table to share with Fenris. Hawke had been offered a cup but had declined.

Fenris drank and the Bull kept refilling their cups all the while praising Fenris' abilities. Apparently, the lyrium in his skin allowed him to pass through solid objects which Anders found quite fascinating. He had attempted to ask questions but whenever he tried to speak the Qunari talked over him, leaving Anders feeling like the proverbial fifth wheel on the dung cart.

When the plates had been cleared away Hawke fixed the spy with a hard stare and asked, 'Where is Tulen, or Callidor, or whatever his name is? You know where he is headed I assume?'

'Yes, I gave him the signal that he had been reassigned. He should be on his way to the Viddasala to receive new orders. I can only guess that it's somewhere north, maybe even Par Vollen.'

'It's our best lead,' Fenris said. Come on, let's go. My thanks, Hissrad, I would not regret facing your axe in battle again.'

'Likewise,' the Bull agreed.

'No, hold it. We had time for lunch, we have time for a little chat. We could stand to find out a bit more about our quarry, don't you think?' Hawke said calmly. Fenris was about to protest but one look from Hawke made him sit back on the bench.

'You gave Tulen his orders by blowing his cover?' Hawke asked disbelievingly.

The Bull shrugged. 'Why not? I would have just told him if you hadn't been there. It was what you might call the short hand for: you are have been reassigned, go report to your superior.'

'Who is he really?' Fenris asked.

'I don't know his background. I only know that he is a spy for reasons of his own, and that he has been declared Basalit-an like you, Hawke. As you know my people are not known for letting mages roam free, so he is very special.'

'Am I still Basalit-an despite the fact that “it never happened”?' Hawke asked cunningly.

'Just because it never happened doesn't mean we don't recognise you as someone worthy of respect. We have been watching you, Marian.' The Bull said seriously.

'Your first name is Marian?' Anders asked but everyone kept ignoring him.

Hawke just snorted in response. 'Tulen must make a lot of your people nervous, seeing how he goes against everything the Qun teaches you. Ran into an Arvaarad myself who wanted to slaughter me just for talking to one of your saarebas. Is that why they sent you all the way from Nevarra? To deal with him because you have a history that didn't end in you trying to kill each other?'

'Something like that, yes. I had no idea who I was meeting other than that he would appear as a Dalish bas-saarebas and that I was to tell him to report in.'

'So you have more than one bas-saarebas spying for you?'

'Aren't you sharp? I'm beginning to see why people want to kill you.'

Hawke gave him a toothy grin. 'What I can't quite figure out is if he is so special why are you giving him up so willingly?'

The room went quiet. Fenris and Anders looked from Hawke to Hissrad neither of them even blinked. The silence stretched until Hawke said, 'Oh my, I would hate to play Wicked Grace against you, you really have no tell when you don't want to.'

The Bull inclined his head to suggest that he accepted that as a compliment. However, Hawke's eyes narrowed when she said, 'That in itself tells me it's political. His superior and your superior don't see eye-to-eye about bas-saarebas spying for the greater good, is that it?'

There was still no reaction from the Qunari but Hawke must have seen what she was looking for. 'Ah, I thought so. You waited here to give him up because you want us to take him out. Hawke Basalit-an taking out the Ben-Hassrath's trash. Nice move and it irks me that I may have to make your wish come true.'

'You are not wrong, Hawke. Some of my people would love to see Callidor removed from the picture, and who better to do it than the famous Champion of Kirkwall, slayer of the Arishok.'

Hawke took a deep breath and exhaled. 'Mmh. But there is more isn't there? Yes. They have tried to kill him before and couldn't do it. You were assigned to verify the potential Gaatlok threat and give him the message from Tulen's Vidda-whatever because you have worked with him before and he might not kill you on sight. However, you had secret orders from another superior to take him out should you get the chance but when I came into the picture you changed the mission. That's first class, I'm impressed.'

'But how could you know we would come here to look for him?' Anders asked, feeling he ought to contribute since this was all happening because of him.

The Bull didn't even look at him when he said, 'I had a hunch.'

'Oh great, seems like you and Marian have a lot in common.' Anders rolled his eyes until a booted foot kicked him under the table. 'Ow.'

The Bull leaned back in his chair. 'As I see it, we both win if you kill him. My superior will be happy, and you might get the answers you seek – before you kill him of course. Everyone can go on with their lives.'

'Except for Tulen and his Viddavidala. Not that I care but won't he get pissed if you get Tulen killed? Anders chimed in.

'Who would tell _her_ , the Viddasala is always a woman. Besides I would have done it myself given the chance. But you have seen his power in action. Make no mistake, Callidor is dangerous.' The Bull warned.

'What do you think, Fenris?' Hawke asked.

'I say we have faced worse and lived to tell the tale. Let's go.'

'Do you really think he has gone north?' Hawke looked at Hissrad intently.

'He should have done. However, he seems to have taken an interest in you,' the Bull pointed at Anders, 'so I think he might delay his departure until he has what he wants.'

'How do you know he is interested in me?' Anders asked, feeling very cunning that he had picked up on that apparent hole in the other's account.

The Bull fixed him with another stare and said, 'I could say it's just a feeling but I can see that this won't do for you. Fine. He always positioned himself so he could keep you in his line of sight despite the fact that four skilled fighters were in close proximity, he was only concerned about your actions.'

'Wow,' Anders replied somewhat lamely. 'But if he likes me so much, couldn't he have just hung around instead of sending us on this wild goose chase?'

'I don't know for certain but my guess is it's because you're wielding a great deal of power that you don't seem to be able to control. He probably wants to play it safe, watch and see what you can do before he shows himself.' The Bull shrugged.

'Look who is the sharp one now. Hissrad, it has been educational. Farewell.' Hawke made to leave, Fenris and Anders did the same when the Bull said, 'Good luck, Hawke. And for what it's worth I hope all goes well with your sister's trial at Weisshaupt.'

Hawke stopped and turned. 'What did you say?'

'Bethany Hawke, your sister, the Grey Warden mage. Since you are here I assumed all was going well.'

Hawke advanced on the Bull and screamed in his face. 'What did you say? Tell me what you know, right now!'

'Shit, you have no idea?'

'Obviously, how do you even know when I don't?'

'I'm a spy. I talk to other spies, and when one of the famous Hawke's family members is put on trial at Weisshaupt for breaking into a forbidden Warden archive, word gets around.'

'Fuck!'

'Hawke!' Fenris called.

The rogue turned, her face twisted in agony. 'Shit, this is my fault. I sent her to investigate something for me and she must have dug too deep. Fenris, Anders, I'm sorry but I need to go to Weisshaupt.'

'Go,' Fenris said, 'we can handle this ourselves. Go save your sister.'

'Your sister is a mage and a Grey Warden?' Anders asked. 'And yet you sleep with the Knight-Commander?' 

'Shut him up, Fenris, or Maker will it, I will do it. Permanently.' The force of her anger made Anders retreat until his back hit a wooden post. 

Fenris immediately moved himself between Anders and Hawke, effectively shielding the mage with his body. Anders was amazed but still felt he had to make it up to Hawke and with Fenris as a living shield he dared say, 'I'm sorry, Marian, and please forgive me but I feel I am not in a position to offer my help in this matter. The Wardens are certainly looking for me as well.'

'No, you have done enough in that regard!' Hawke snarled which made Anders duck behind Fenris' shoulder and whispered into his ear, 'What does that mean?'

The elf just muttered, 'I'll tell you later. Let her go before she breaks something irreplaceable. She can be even more destructive than you if she puts her mind to it.'

'I believe you,' Anders replied earnestly.

'I need supplies and transportation. I need...'

'Take some of our shit. Provision, a horse, take whatever you need. We were just getting ready for the trip to Ayesleigh,' the Bull offered sincerely.

'Is that the Qun's idea of an apology?' Hawke asked bitterly.

'No, it's mine. I am the Iron Bull and I don't want to make an enemy of Marian Hawke, the Champion of Kirkwall.'

Hawke deflated a bit and with a curd nod to all of them she ran out of the door. Half an hour later Fenris and Anders watched a fast disappearing dust cloud on the western horizon.

'We should get going as well,' Fenris remarked.

'What about Tulen? We seem to be running out of allies.' Anders asked.

'If the Bull is right than he will come to us. Let's go back home for now. We can ask around the area tomorrow. If he doesn't show, we will follow him north the day after tomorrow. One way or another we will find him and we will deal with whatever comes our way.' Fenris smiled at Anders and the mage felt compelled to reciprocate.

**

A short while later, the Bull stepped out of the inn and watched as the warrior he knew as the Blue Ghost of Seheron and his mage lover walked back into the direction they had arrived from earlier in the day.

When he was absolutely certain no one would overhear him he said, 'We are even, Callidor.'

TBC


	15. Stop thinking

It was late afternoon when Fenris and Anders reached the Poco Beso. 

'Hey, we aren't far away now, I think I recognise this part of the woods,' Anders said, pleased with himself.

Fenris snorted. 'I see your memory seems to be working fine since you woke up and ran away from me.' 

'Well, I might not have run had a certain someone not tossed me around like a wet rag,' Anders replied and regretted it. The words always sounded right in his head but when they came out they seemed to hurt Fenris more often than not.

'I...' Fenris began but Anders interjected. 'Hey, I didn't mean it. You... I... uhn.' He stepped in front of the warrior who had his gaze turned to the ground and gently took the elf's chin in his hand to lift the other's face until he could look him in the eyes. Fenris didn't resist.

Anders feared that whatever would come out of mouth would make matters worse so he decided on a course of action that had always come easy to him and softly pressed his lips to Fenris'. 

For a long moment they just stood, the wind rustling in the trees. Fenris lips were warm and soft but he wasn't moving them, not leaning into the kiss, so reluctantly, fearing he had yet again done the wrong thing, Anders withdrew. 

He made it about an inch away before Fenris arm came around his waist, pressing him boldly against the leather armour. Turning his head, Fenris used his teeth to rip open the buckle that held his other gauntlet in place and carelessly tossed it onto the forest floor. His now free hand buried itself in blonde bangs, pulling gently, just the way Anders liked it. 

Before Anders had time to comment, Fenris' lips crushed against his again. The elf's tongue immediately demanded entrance, and Anders was only too happy to oblige. The mage had not felt that they had moved until his back crashed into a tree which provided wonderful support as Fenris leaned in even more, pressing a muscled leg between Anders' thighs. 

The friction was maddening, it was bliss, it was not enough. Anders desperately moved against his lover, silently begging him to give him more. He had been so stressed, so frustrated, so lost, but this, this here was familiar: a promise of respite from the maelstrom of fear. And, Andraste's arse, he would take it!

But what if Fenris saw this as a sign that they could just pick up where they had supposedly left off? What if Anders woke up tomorrow and felt he needed to move on? What if...

'Anders, stop thinking,' Fenris admonished breathlessly. His lips were finding the sensitive spot underneath the mage's ear and Anders gasped, throwing his head back to give the warrior more access. 

'How did you...?' But Fenris just kissed him again and pressed his thigh against the bulge in Anders' trousers. 

'Not fair,' Anders moaned and tried to grind harder against his lover. 

'I know you can't remember,' Fenris whispered in that sexy voice of his, 'but I know you want me.' 

Anders made an unintelligible sound in the back of his throat as pleasure surged through him from a powerful thrust of Fenris' leg. 

'So let me take care of you,' Fenris breathed against Anders' lips. 'Let me have this moment. Let me have you, I need this.' 

'Yes.' Anders moaned. 'Yes.' 

Fenris' hand snaked between them to open the mage's coat but Anders' hands pushed his away and made short works of the buckles and without breaking eye-contact opened the laces of his trousers. 

Fenris' eyes were bright and burning with lust. He looked gorgeous, cheeks flushed, a drop of sweat running from his temple. Anders leaned forward and licked it off the salty skin as his hands worked to help push Fenris' own trousers down. When he tried to reach for Fenris, the warrior batted his hands away. 'I said I will take care of you,' he reminded the mage firmly.

Anders moaned as he watched Fenris lick the palm of his hand before he reached down and began to jerk him off with long, firm strokes. Not knowing what else to do, Anders' hands clenched around the warrior's shoulders. He was close, so close when he suddenly felt the press of Fenris' cock next to his. The warrior's hand held them both in a firm calloused grip. 

'Maker,' Anders' groaned as Fenris increased his pace. So close. 

Fenris panted and leaned into his lover, his forehead resting on Anders' shoulder as he started to tell him how he wanted to drag the mage home and tie him to their bed, how he wanted to take out all his pent up frustrations on Anders. 

'I want to hold you down and spank you until you cry for mercy. I want to taste you, push my tongue inside you until you scream my name and beg me to fuck you. I want to keep you on the edge until I am ready to let you fall. I want to show you that you're mine, that I am yours. I want to have all of you. Every day, forever. Anders...' 

Orgasm slammed through Anders as Fenris words filled him with the desire to give up, give in, if only Fenris made good on his promise. He jerked his head back and banged it into the tree but he didn't feel any pain only bliss as Fenris followed suit, shouting his name to the sky. 

They washed in the stream, grinning like idiots. When they had put their clothes back on, Anders stepped close to Fenris, kissed him and then asked, 'Are you going to make good on all those things you said to me?' 

Fenris cocked his head, a smile playing around the corner of his mouth. 'Do you want me to?'

'Oh, yes please,' Anders moaned and kissed the warrior again. 

When they broke the kiss Fenris looked to the sky and said, 'We better get going.' 

'Eager to get back home?' 

Fenris looked him deep in the eyes and said, 'Yes, because we have a bed which is infinitely more comfortable and if we don't go now then I can't guarantee I will be able to restrain myself any longer and take you right here and now in this clearing. What would you prefer?' 

Anders swallowed hard. He felt torn between, 'just take me,' and 'bed'. Although, they could probably do more interesting things in a bed. 

'Bed,' he eventually croaked which seemed to please Fenris. 

**

They arrived at their house at sunset. 

'And she really defeated the Arishok?' Anders asked as they approached but Fenris hand shot out and held the mage back. 'What?'

'Shh.' Fenris gestured to the faint flickering light that could be seen through the cracks in the downstairs shutters that barred the window. 

Anders nodded as Fenris drew his sword. 

They crept silently to the door and listened. They both shook their heads, indicating that not a sound could be heard from the inside. 

But before they could storm in, a familiar voice said, 'Are you going to stay out there forever or are you coming in?'

Fenris glowed bright blue, Anders had to stifle a gasp of surprise and then the warrior phased through solid wood. 

Instead of the sounds of fighting, horrible silence followed. 

Throwing all caution in the wind, Anders reached for the Fade. Ice crystals danced around his palms as he kicked the door open. 

Fenris was frozen in place, a shimmering globe illuminating the spirit prison.

Tulen sat at the table, casually eating a grape before he turned to look at him.

'What took you so long?' 

TBC


	16. There is always a choice

'Let him go!' Anders yelled as he watched Fenris' silent gasps of pain. The warrior was suspended three feet of the ground inside a golden shimmering barrier, but unlike the holding barrier Tulen had used on the Iron Bull, this one lashed the captive with invisible tentacles of energy.

'Or what?' The spy asked, a cruel smile playing around his mouth.

Anders gaze bounced between Tulen and Fenris. He had just made up his mind to unleash ice-blast when the other spoke again.

'I wouldn't do that in your delicate state. Yes, you might hit me but in that case you will certainly hit him as well. The spirit prison will dissolve as soon as I am incapacitated and then what? For all we know you might unleash permafrost onto this house. Wouldn't that be a find for the historians of ages to come? A triangle of fighting magical beings, captured in a single moment. Tamassrans would bring their charges here and say, 'Take a good look, that's why we liberated the world from magic for it will only bring you pain and destruction'.'

'How can you say that? You are a mage.' Anders snarled back.

'I am Qunari,' Tulen replied with conviction. 'I serve the Qun as best I can even if that means I will never set foot on Par Vollen. Even if that means that no follower of the Qun would even piss on me if I were on fire. My place in the Qun is clear.'

'Oh great, you are a nutter,' Anders said venomously. This time Fenris scream was audible even through the muffling energy of the barrier as Tulen intensified the field with a flick of his hand.

'No!' Anders yelled. 'Please. Sorry. I'm sorry. Just... just let him go.' Anders lowered his hands and looked at the elf with pleading eyes.

'And let him kill me the second he touches the ground? I don't think so.' However he seemed to ease off as Fenris resumed his silent gasping rather than screaming as if he was being flailed alive.

'What is it you want from me?' Anders asked, clearly frustrated but thinking. _'The barrier is not wavering one bit and there is no end in sight. How powerful is he?'_

Instead of an answer, Tulen asked him a question of his own. 'Do you know what happened to you?'

'Yes,' Anders replied quickly, the faster he got this over with, the faster he could help Fenris. 'I was host to a spirit for a number of years but when we parted I lost my memory of the entire time we were merged.'

'Indeed. That means you can't remember my part in all of this,' Tulen phrased it as a statement not a question. The elf didn't wait for Anders to comment and taunted, 'Would you like me to tell you?'

'First release him, I beg you,' Anders pleaded again.

'My, my, he must be something. Are you in love with him after a mere, what is it now, almost two days together?' Tulen asked, clearly amused.

Anders clenched his teeth and looked at his lover who was writhing in pain. 'No, I'm not.'

The spy raised an eyebrow. 'That was candid. You know he can hear you, right?'

'Yes, I know and he wouldn't want me to lie.' Anders said but before Tulen could interject he added, 'But I care for him and I don't want to see him hurt.'

'Well, but I can't risk him going for my throat so I shall simply do this.' The colour of the barrier changed from golden to blue. At first Anders didn't understand what was going on until Fenris clearly struggled and gasped for air.

'You're killing him!' Anders yelled. 'If you kill him, you're dead, mark my words!'

'Hush. Don't fret. I am merely burning up the air inside the bubble. It's probably hot in there but it won't harm him, much. There, all done.' Tulen said with satisfaction when Fenris' eyes rolled into the back of his head. The barrier disappeared and Fenris landed in a heap on the floor.

'No, stay!' The elf commanded as Anders moved to check on his lover.

'But...'

'He is breathing for now, he will wake up in a few minutes, so let us talk.' Tulen gestured for Anders to take a seat on the other side of the table.

Anders worried his lower lip, stealing anxious glances at Fenris but he reached the conclusion that it was probably better to do what Tulen wanted, for now. The elf had demonstrated power and control. He could have easily killed them both but he hadn’t so there was something he wanted. Now it was just a matter of finding out how to use that to his advantage. Anders sat down. 'All right tell me, what have you got to do with all of this?'

'Why, you came to me. That is, you asked around in the community whether anyone knew of any Dalish clans in the area because you had an urgent question for a Keeper. Words have a way of finding my ear, so I felt obliged to assist.' Tulen began.

'Out of the kindness of your heart, no doubt,' Anders sneered back.

'Not at all. But I was curious what a Circle trained apostate would want from a Keeper, so I set up a meeting with you in Felicidad.'

Tulen stopped when the body on the ground groaned. To Anders' horror, Tulen conjured up Stonefist and struck Fenris in the face. The limp body slid across the floor with great speed and crashed into a shelf. Bowls and cups clanked as they shattered on the floor around the unconscious warrior.

'No, stay put,' the elf commanded sharply as Anders was about to run to his lover to check his injuries.

'That way he won't bother us for a little while longer.' Anders clenched his teeth but sat down again. He tried not to look at Fenris' face where a trickle of blood ran out of his nose and the corner of his mouth, pooling on the wood under his cheek.

'I really want to hurt you,' Anders said seething with anger.

'Who knows you might even get your chance but then you'll never find out what I know,' the elf said, clearly not at all intimidated by the threat. 'Where was I?'

'We met in Felicidad,' Anders prompted.

'Ah yes, so we did. You asked me about my clan. I will never forget the look on your face when I told you that I had been exiled.' The elf laughed nastily. 'Oh, but you brightened right up when I said I knew of a clan that was hiding on Llomerryn.'

'Llomerryn? The pirate island?' Anders asked incredulously. 'What a band of swash-buckling elves that roam the Waking Sea in Aravels carved out of Halla horns in search of easy booty?'

Tulen howled with laughter. 'That's exactly what you said the first time when we had this conversation.'

'Good to know I haven't changed all that much then,' Anders replied sourly.

'There is no swash-buckling involved. There are in fact Dalish on Llomerryn but they are not like the ones you will have encountered in the South. We met on the eastern coast where you had conveniently sent your lover on a mercenary contract to hunt down slavers for a week. Poor Fenris had no idea.' Tulen waved his hand in the direction of the unconscious warrior. There was still no sign that Fenris would wake up any time soon. Every muscle in Anders' body ached from the effort to stay put.

'If you go to him now, I will kill him before you can touch him. You know what we can do. We are monsters.' The spy said, his voice completely emotionless. 'We can assassinate a target on the other side of a crowded ballroom while having a charming conversation about the weather. Killing your lover now would be child's play in comparison.'

'This is madness. I want to know what you have to say. I have no reason to fight or antagonise you other than the one you are giving me right now. Let me heal him and put him to bed and we can talk all night long.' Anders tried to reason.

Tulen cocked his head as if he was contemplating the healer's argument. 'Tell you what, you go over there and give him this,' the elf held up a tiny vial. 'And then you may heal him all you want.' He tossed the glass container to Anders who caught it in his right hand.

'What is it?' Anders swivelled the vial and watched the glowing liquid slosh around in the glass.

'It's called Qamek. We give it to those who refuse to embrace enlightenment. The Qun wastes nothing.'

'What will it do to him?' Anders asked cautiously.

'He will live and he will follow orders without questioning.' Tulen explained.

'You are saying it will...' Anders stared at the tiny container in horror before he shouted, 'Fuck you, you want me to make him into a _tranquil_? No, not that, anything but not that.'

Anders was about to smash the vial on the floor when Tulen reminded him sharply, 'If you prefer, I can kill him.'

The blonde mage cursed but remained still. 'Qamek, it's like a potion, isn't it? How long does the effect last?'

'Long enough,' Tulen replied but Anders didn't budge. 'How. Long.?'

The elf took a deep breath and mustered the other mage through narrow eyes. He seemed to reach a conclusion before he said, 'A vial this size for a warrior with his stamina, I would say 24 to 36 hours.'

Anders let out a breath that he hadn't even noticed he was holding. 'So it does wear off.'

Tulen smiled mirthlessly. 'It does, unfortunately.' When Anders raised an eyebrow the other elaborated. 'In order to keep the Viddath-bas from harming themselves we have to administer regular doses. However, every person is different. The amount and frequency we give depends on their shape and how long it has been since they have been brought under the protection of the Qun. It's complicated and time consuming but no effort is too great for us. That is the length we go to even for those who reject the greater good. Can you say the same for your Chantry?'

Anders fixed the other mage with a hard stare. 'How do I know you are telling the truth? You are a spy, a professional liar.'

'Which brings us back to solution number one: I can just kill him, or you can take a chance and trust me.'

Anders laughed without humour. It sounded nasty and hollow even to his own ears. 'Trust you? No. But you leave me no choice.'

'There is always a choice under the Qun, a very clear choice: follow your path, or die. Glory is defined and clear.'

Anders clenched his fingers around the vial. He wondered idly whether he could break the glass if he only held it tighter. But no, he couldn't afford to think like that. Fenris' life was at stake and it was literally in the palm of his hand.

He got up and walked across the room. Every step heavy as if he was wading through a quagmire, as if he was back in Blackmarsh, back where it had all begun, where he had encountered a spirit ripped from the Fade and imprisoned in the corpse of a Grey Warden.

Justice.

 _'Where is Justice now?'_ Anders wondered as he knelt down. Fenris blood seeped into his trousers where his knee touched the ground. He didn't even notice.

Carefully, he turned his lover, cradled him in his arm. Fenris moaned at being moved but didn't regain consciousness. Anders pulled the cork out of the vial with his teeth.

'Please, forgive me,' Anders whispered into the white-haired elf's ear. 'Please forgive me again.' He set the rim of the glass against Fenris' lips. Closing his eyes, Anders planted a small kiss on his lover's temple before he tipped the glowing liquid into his mouth.

TBC


	17. In the Dark

Anders tossed the empty vial aside. Fenris choked and spluttered, spilling droplets of the poison down his chin but eventually he swallowed.

All the while Anders was whispering endearments, telling him how much he cared for him, how grateful he was to wake up in this strange world only to find that there was someone waiting for him. Over and over he begged Fenris for forgiveness as he used his free hand to wipe the blood off the warrior's face.

 _'I have known him for just over a day and already his blood is on my hands,'_ Anders thought bitterly.

Without waiting for permission or protest from the other mage, he reached for his magic. All of Fenris exposed skins had superficial burns, his nose and collarbone were broken, his rips were cracked, he had a concussion and was bleeding into his abdominal cavity.

Half an hour later and all Anders would have been able to do was build a funeral pyre. Instead he capitalised on his increased powers. He hadn't even realised it yesterday when he had saved both mother and baby, but now he noticed how much stronger, how much easier healing magic flowed through him into the warrior.

He felt tissue and bone mending inside the body and watched the redness of the skin recede. Anders let out a tiny gasp when Fenris opened his eyes and nearly dropped the elf as he instinctively jerked backwards. Fenris' eyes were pitch black, and empty.

'Well then, shall we be on our way?' Anders looked around to where Tulen was making a show of getting out of the chair and brushing invisible dust off his trousers.

'Where are we going?' Anders asked warily.

The elf walked nonchalantly to where his staff was leaning next to the fireplace and picked it up before he sauntered to where Anders and Fenris where still sitting on the floor. Fenris just stared at the wall in front of him like a child's doll that had been left and forgotten in a corner. Lifeless, soulless. Anders couldn't tell who he hated more in this moment, himself or Tulen.

'We will all take a nice walk in the moonlight. There is something I want to show you. Don't worry, we can chat on the way.' Tulen said merrily as if they were just friends going on a jolly.

'Let me put him to bed first,' Anders said and made a grab for Fenris' arm to sling it over his shoulder and help the elf onto his feet.

'Bed? Oh no, he will accompany us of course. Don't worry he is fine. Fenris, stand up!' Tulen commanded and the white-haired warrior obeyed. He gently shoved Anders aside and got onto his feet, still staring into oblivion.

Anders' face contorted into a grimace at the sight of Fenris standing there like the slave he had once been. No, slaves had a mind of their own, they had thoughts, dreams. They could laugh and cry and feel joy and sorrow.

But a tranquil felt nothing, wanted nothing. The tranquils at Kinloch Hold had understood themselves as living tools. And like all tools their fate depended on their master's next whim: to be treasured or crushed, adored or abused, used or discarded when they seized to function.

Even if by some miracle, Fenris would find it in him to forgive Anders for when this was over, the blonde mage knew he would never forgive himself. Horrified and disgusted, Anders asked, 'Why does he need to come with us?'

'You could say he is my insurance policy,' Tulen admitted. The blonde mage looked from Fenris' impassive face to Tulen and back.

 _'He is afraid of me.'_ The thought struck Anders like a lightning bolt. _'He is afraid of what I could do to him if we were alone which means he believes I am the stronger one. Oh, I have got you, you devious little worm. I just need to wait for my moment, and it will come. A famous Grey Warden taught me that all good things come to those who can wait, maybe you have heard of her: Sereda Aeducan, Hero of Fereldan. She also said, 'And if the moment takes too long, go find it and kick it's arse'. I will get you, Tulen, and then you'll be sorry.'_

**

They moved north under a cloudless sky. The air had cooled down and Anders shivered despite his coat. Although whether it was from the cold or fear, he couldn't say.

Fenris was the vanguard albeit without his sword, holding a torch up high to illuminate the way. Anders came next, still without his staff and Tulen brought up the rear, once in a while shouting directions at Fenris which the warrior followed like a puppet on a string.

The terrain got steep within minutes but Fenris set a steady pace. Anders wondered how Fenris could see in this darkness despite the torch when he stumbled over another root. He could hear Tulen chuckle.

'I believe your exact words were “ _we can chat on the way_ ”.' Anders called over his shoulder to distract himself from the urge to throw a fireball at the other mage's face before he had gotten any answers.

Tulen made a noise that sounded like an agreement before he picked up the threat of his narration.

'Where were we? Ah yes, we met in a small fishing village, boarded a dingy and rowed to an island hidden in the mist off Llomerryn. I had unfinished business with this clan, bringing you gave me a convincing reason to approach without raising suspicions, or should I say, the right kind of suspicions.'

'So glad I helped you with your spying,' Anders snarled, half turning to glare at the elf which Tulen just met with a mocking bow. 'Why, thank you.'

'I'll spare you the boring details but their Keeper agreed to help you after he met your friend,' Tulen continued.

'Fenris was there?' Anders asked confused. He stopped walking and turned around. Tulen walked up into his personal space and said, 'I'm talking about the spirit of Justice. Wait there, Fenris!'

The warrior stopped and turned around. Anders suppressed a shudder. He couldn't make out his lover's eyes but swore he could feel that the person standing only a few feet away was empty. _'The moment, wait for your moment,'_ Anders thought to himself.

Out loud he said, 'That doesn't make sense, Fenris told me Justice had turned into a Vengeance demon, as much as I have trouble believing that, but given where I am now it appears to be true.'

'Exactly,' Tulen said and motioned for them to resume walking. Anders obliged. Fenris seemed to have picked up on the clue because he was already stepping ahead.

'You got very upset during our talk when we kept talking about a demon and not a spirit, so Vengeance made an appearance although it kept referring to itself as Justice as well,' Tulen continued his story.

'Together, the Keeper and I managed to subdue it. The clan wanted to kill you, naturally, but I reasoned that should your experiment be successful, the knowledge would benefit the clan as well. I offered myself as liaison and promised I would report back on your success or indeed failure. The Keeper agreed with me.'

'What was it that I wanted from them?' Anders asked impatiently.

'The Dalish ritual to enter the Fade consciously. You were fixated on the notion that you wanted your friend Justice to leave peacefully and that you could only achieve this by going into the Fade yourself. You knew that the Dalish possessed the knowledge because of something that had happened in Kirkwall.'

'Why didn't we do it right then and there? Surely the Keeper would have been a great help.' Anders remarked. They were now following a narrow path that probably got washed out with every rain. It felt like they were in the middle of nowhere after a mere hour's walk.

'Well, you see everyone had gotten a bit upset by your demon's appearance and the ritual needs careful preparation so we agreed for you to leave and for us to meet in Felicidad where I would hand you the details on a scroll that the Keeper would write for you.'

'So that was the second meeting, Franco was talking about. You handed me the scroll. What did you get out of this?'

'You offered me your body,' Tulen said flatly.

'Pardon?' Anders was glad that Tulen couldn't see his face. He automatically glanced at Fenris and despite everything expected the white-haired elf to turn on his heel to disembowel the Qunari for even suggesting he would touch Anders.

'Like I said, you offered me the opportunity to study you after your experiment, non-invasive of course, that is if you were still alive which you clearly are. So you could say I am here to cash in on my investment.' Tulen continued. Anders could practically hear the other mage grin.

'Why all this effort? What is it you want?' Anders asked impatiently.

'To answer that question I have to explain a bit more about myself,' Tulen began but Anders replied, 'I know you are a sadistic Qunari spy who also happens to be a mage, which might not make much sense at the moment but what is one more mystery in my life at this point?'

But Tulen ignored him and began to talk. 'I grew up in a remote Qunari settlement in the North, close to the border of Tevinter. Our location was strategically unimportant to the Vints so no one bothered us for years. Until Tevinter felt it was time to set an example.'

'This is going to be a happy story then?' Anders asked venomously.

Tulen snorted but kept talking. 'I was a child with no magic, not trained to hold a sword. The advancing force outnumbered us ten to one. It must have cost them a fortune but the point was made. Where I played as a child with my Tamassran only charred ruins remain.'

Anders said nothing and kept walking. He was still waiting for his moment and maybe if Tulen lost himself in reminiscence, it would come sooner rather than later.

'Naturally, all captors were sold into slavery. My master called me Callidor. He liked me, a lot.' Anders wrinkled his nose at the implication but kept quiet.

'He liked me so much that he couldn't bare to be parted from me when he was transferred to Seheron. I was eleven at the time. We travelled in a convoy when we were attacked by a platoon of the Antaam. But the bas-saarebas had been prepared for this. My people were decimated until just one woman stood in the midst of the carnage. One of her horns had broken off, she was bleeding form multiple wounds and yet she stood, unwavering: Tallis. She seemed like a goddess to me. I was hiding under a cart and suddenly we locked eyes and I understood. When the smoke had cleared only Tallis and I remained.'

'You came into your magic,' Anders observed. It seemed the stories were always the same with little variation. _'I burned down the barn, I froze my sister solid, I zapped the abusive asshole until he was crispy on the outside.'_

No wonder ordinary people feared what mages could do. It is drilled into all of us from infancy that magic is evil, a curse, so when we discover our power, we panic and the world reaps what it sows: fear and hatred breeds destruction and chaos. The child has magic behold the carnage, we were right to believe that magic is evil. And so it continues in a vicious circle. Double, no triple that for the Qun. 'Why didn't she kill you?'

'She didn't get the chance because I fell to my knees and recited the Qun, I had not forgotten my place. But I was disgusted by what I had become, so I asked her to take my life.'

'That's madness,' Anders growled. 'Well, obviously she let you live. What then?'

'I don't expect a bas-saarebas to understand. But know this, Tallis was special even then before she ascended to Viddasala. She petitioned to have me declared Basalit-an and I was not to leave her side. I became her apprentice of a sort. She provided me with magical tutors, education, shelter. And by the time the Arishok had returned to Par Vollen after the defeat of the Archdemon in Fereldan, she told me that in order to I serve the Qun I had to go into the world and find everything I possible could to help the Qun destroy magic forever.'

'Wait, so you are effectively a magical researcher with the express mission to destroy all magic?' Anders shook his head.

'Somewhat oversimplified but in essence, yes. I seek to understand different types of magic, artefacts, pieces of history, phenomena, anything related to magic that has not been seen before, or has been lost in time. Anything that helps us understand how we can rid the world of this curse forever.'

'And you are saying I knew all this and still agreed to let you study me?' Anders asked horrified.

'Of course not. You just knew that I had an interest in seeing the outcome of your attempt to exorcise a demon by yourself and that I could use this knowledge as currency to trade it for something I wanted form the Keeper. It seemed like a fair deal at the time.' Tulen explained.

'So what you want to have a quick look at me and then go your merry way to Llomerryn? Why the drama, why fight us?'

Tulen laughed mirthlessly. 'Not quite. See, I had a bit of luck and already got what I wanted form the Keeper. My interest in you is purely professional now and when Hissrad, in his own remarkable way, gave the signal to receive new orders by blowing my cover, he forced my hand. Do you really think any of your friends would even let me within a mile of you now given a choice?''

'Excuse me, last time I checked I was my own man. If I thought you could shed some light on my situation, I might have agreed to talk to you without all this shit happening!' Anders yelled, waving at Fenris who had stopped walking again and just looked at them passively.

Tulen chuckled. 'For a man your age, you are shockingly naïve. He would never let you make your own decision about something he sees as a threat to you,' the elf said, nodding at Fenris. 'The old you knew this and had come up with very elaborate strategies to circumnavigate his possessiveness. Isabela would just gut me on sight. And Hawke, well, your friend is a wildcard. I couldn't take the chance.'

'Couldn't?'

'Oops. How careless of me,' Tulen smiled nastily.

Anders' face contorted into a grimace of anger. 'There is no ship on fire and Hawke's sister is not in Weisshaupt.'

Tulen shrugged, 'Who knows, it could be true. Oh, you really want to throw that fireball at me, don't you? You would most likely burn the whole forest to the ground including Fenris and who knows who else. And the worst part would be, I would still be standing when the smoke has cleared. Barriers are my speciality.'

'How nice for you,' Anders snarled but Tulen was right. This was not the moment.

'Isn't it? Let's keep going, Fenris follow the ridge west until you get to a black boulder, then turn further north until you reach a pond.' The warrior obeyed, leaving Anders no choice but to follow.

'Now then, you succeeded in exorcising the demon by yourself – remarkable really. Did your friends fill you in on any details on how you managed it? Please, I insist.' Tulen prompted from behind Anders' back.

'I didn't do it alone,' Anders admitted and pointedly looked at Fenris, only to immediately regret his impulsiveness.

'You don't say,' Tulen exclaimed, obviously excited by the revelation. 'Well then I'm especially happy that we brought him along. What exactly did he do if you don't mind me asking?'

Alarmed that Tulen's interest had started to focus on Fenris, Anders replied, 'He rescued me when I was unconscious. If he hadn't found me, I would have bled to death.' Which was nothing but the truth. Anders had never believed that omitting certain details constituted lying.

'Mmh.' Tulen was obviously disappointed by the reply. Anders breathed a sigh of relief if only inside his own head.

'Why can't I remember?' Anders asked quickly to keep Tulen from thinking about Fenris' involvement. The Qunari seemed to love being able to talk about his work just like any senior enchanter in the Circle, and just as patronising.

As predicted, Tulen continued. 'The memory loss was to be expected although it usually results from trauma not an active act of vengeance. The way I see it, the demon didn't just leave, it scorched your memory centres. You are lucky you didn't wake up as a drooling vegetable.'

'Yes, lucky me. What does that mean exactly?' Anders asked trying to hide his growing anxiety.

Tulen paused for effect before he said, 'You are brain damaged. The memory loss is permanent.'

Anders closed his eyes and sighed. 'Are you certain?'

'I have seen it before. My interest in Rivain has to do with the seers. I have studied their spirit possession for years. The effect it has on their minds and their abilities. Apart from that, I have in fact encountered two other people who had offered their body to a spirit on a long term basis.' Tulen elaborated.

'What happened to them?'

'The first one was host to a spirit of Compassion. You will find this funny, she made other people forget their pain by erasing their memories.'

'Yes, hilarious,' Anders hissed back. They had reached the black boulder and changed direction. The wind had picked up, rustling the leaves and freezing Anders' face.

'It was fascinating. I conducted tests on her before and after her untimely death.'

'Meaning you killed her,' Anders ventured.

'Perish the thought, who do you take me for? I'm no murderer.' Tulen replied with feint hurt.

'Of course you aren't,' Anders replied sarcastically. 'Then how did she die?'

'She was slain by an embittered son who did not take kindly to his mother no longer recognising him after the spirit had supposedly taken her pain away, which goes to show how little demons understand the living.'

Anders forced himself to remain passive, keeping his eyes glued to Fenris' back as the warrior marched in front of them. Tulen was unconcerned by the lack of reaction and continued.

'It seems that a spirit who possesses a person lives effectively in the part of the brain that stores short-term and after a while also the long-term memory. The act of separation when the spirit returns to the Fade is always a shock to the mortal tissue, hence trauma and loss of memory. The longer the spirit remains the more it changes the physical structure of the brain. Sadly, that was all I could gain from her mangled corpse, their wasn't much left of her to tell you the truth, and necromancy has serious drawbacks for this type of investigation.'

'Necromancy?' Anders turned to look at Tulen. 'Are you saying you are not only a Qunari spy but also a blood mage?'

Tulen rolled his eyes at the blonde man and said in a tone that would have put the most pedantic senior enchanter to shame, 'Not all necromancy requires blood magic. Have you never studied Nevarran burial rites?'

'Must have been part of the curriculum when I was on the run again,' Anders replied through clenched teeth. 'You said there were two people, what happened to the other one?'

'The other person was not a seer but a magister. He also had a guest in his head who refused to leave, however it did not turn him into an abomination in the classical sense. They coexisted for quite some time until the spirit was persuaded to return to the Fade.'

'A magister? In Rivain?'

Tulen tsked. 'In Tevinter, of course. It was the magister's case that prompted my interest in possession and coexistence that let me here in the first place.'

'We'll always have Minrathous,' Anders quoted the Iron Bill's parting words.

'Precisely. I'll explain more later, we're here. Fenris, stop!' Tulen commanded. They had reached the pond which was a grand word for the slightly bigger puddle that Anders could make out in the darkness.

Tulen approached the enormous tree that was growing next to the water. Anders could briefly see a glyph glowing in the dark before Tulen said. 'Fenris, you go first, and then you, Anders.' He gestured to the hole that had silently opened up in the trunk. Anders could make out the first steps of what seemed to be a spiral staircase.

Anders hesitated, 'What is down there?'

Tulen fixed him with a stare, 'Answers.'

TBC


	18. The Sad Tale of Rufus Lucretius

They descended the staircase until they reached a small space at the bottom. Tulen told Fenris to place the torch in the wall fitting next to a wooden door that was set in the limestone wall. Anders started to fidget in the confined space. It reminded him too much of the Deep Roads.

All they needed now were a few crumbling Paragon carvings, a couple of giant spiders and a broodmother and Anders would feel eight years younger, wishing he was somewhere else and in better company. _'Story of my life,'_ Anders thought dryly.

He tried to catch Fenris' eyes but his lover still showed no sign of awareness. 'Fenris?' Anders asked because he couldn't stand it any longer. The warrior turned his head. A flicker of hope crossed Anders' heart, 'Fenris, how do you feel?'

There was a long silence which was only interrupted when Tulen waved his hand in a complicated gesture, a purple glyph illuminated the door. 'He doesn't even understand the question, Anders. All he understands are commands like this one: Fenris, push the door open and step inside. Walk until you reach an open space.'

Bile rose in Anders throat when Fenris obeyed every word to the letter. 'After you,' Tulen invited and it took every ounce of willpower to keep from spitting in the elf's face when he passed him before he followed Fenris into the darkness.

Suddenly, the air got colder and Anders had a feeling as if there was a lot of space above him. He automatically looked up although he could not see his hand in front of his eyes and promptly walked into Fenris.

'Sorry,' Anders said automatically, and although he couldn’t see, he felt the briefest of touches as if from the tip of a gauntlet caress the back of his hand.

'Welcome to my workshop,' Tulen announced loudly, his voice bouncing off the walls. He performed another spell and every torch in the cave started to flicker with green flames.

Anders looked at Fenris, desperate for a sign that he had not imagined the touch but his lover was just staring into the void as before.

'What do you think?' Tulen asked like a proud apprentice eager for approval for a job well done.

'I think you are a sadistic maniac,' Anders replied honestly.

'Aren't you sweet? Just so you know, the novelty of your abrasive charm is beginning to wear off,' Tulen warned him with a wry grin.

Anders just raised an eyebrow and cast his glance around the cave. Stone benches that reminded him of dwarven Thaigs lined most of the walls. They were cluttered with a variety of things from books, scrolls, stone tablets, amulets, figurines. One smaller table had a tiny curious box on a black velvet cloth on it. The cubes surface was covered in intricate golden patterns.

'Marvellous, isn't it?' Tulen said. 'I found it at the bottom of a dried up Orlesian well. It's clearly magical but so far I have been unable to open it. A riddle for another time.'

'You get around,' Anders said as he turned his attention to the back of the cave where something was breaking the light at odd angles.

'I have travelled all of Thedas during the past eight years from Seheron to the Korcari Wilds. My stay here in Rivain is the longest I have been in one place hence the clutter,' he gestured to the stone tables.

'Uh-hn, I have known an ale-pissing dwarven berserker who was tidier than you but I didn't come here to criticise your housekeeping. You said you had answers for me. Tell me about that possessed magister.' Anders demanded, still squinting at the back of cave. What was back there?

'So forthright, Anders! But yes, I was going to tell you anyway. His name was Rufus Lucretius. It was the irony of the case that fascinated me. Tevinter's depravity and lust for power is well documented. You don't claw your way to a seat in the Imperial Senate without stabbing some rivals in the back. Blood magic is a logical inevitability in the life of a Tevinter bas-saarebas, and Rufus was no exception.'

'Are you really saying all magisters are blood mages? To wield blood magic you need to accept a demon's offer in person. Are you saying none of them have at least a little sense for aesthetics and say, 'no, thank you'?' Anders wondered.

Tulen just gave him a pointed look and continued. 'Rufus had tried to attract a Pride demon but instead a spirit of Joy appeared and possessed him. He was very popular with the children, and therefore all the mothers, in Minrathous for a number of years.'

'Hang on, are you telling me a _magister_ turned into a... a professional jester?' Anders stared incredulously at the other mage.

'Not a jester, a clown. Jesters sit at the feet of kings to mock, admonish and council without fear of retribution. The best jesters are very wise. Clowns make people laugh.'

'I can't even tell if you're kidding,' Anders said exasperated.

'Do you want to know what happened to him or not?'

'Just so you understand that this is the most surreal conversation I have ever had,' Anders explained which Tulen took for a 'do tell'.

'As I implied before he turned into a bit of a ladies' man, which the husbands really didn't appreciate. There were numerous attempts on his life but all the assassins died laughing before they could complete the contract. So instead of hiring another killer, Marcus Marcellus employed a professional exorcist – and before you ask, no, it wasn't me. I was in Minrathous on unrelated business. It was a Rivaini seer.'

'Did he suck all the fun out of him?' Anders couldn't resist. He shot a look at Fenris but the warrior showed no reaction. Tulen however barked a short laugh.

'That's good, I need to remember that for next time. Essentially, yes, that's exactly what happened. I spare you the details but eventually the seer used the Rivaini Valour runes and talked to the spirit in Rufus' body. This would never work on a demon but apparently a benevolent spirit can be persuaded to leave.'

'Then why didn't I try to do this? Why the Dalish ritual?' Anders asked.

'Because it would have involved another person doing the exorcism for you, and you were so adamant you had to talk to your friend yourself. Personally, I think you already knew he was a demon and would not leave until you defeated him in the Fade.' Tulen explained.

Anders looked at Fenris' impassive face and wondered exactly what they had done in the Fade to get Justice or Vengeance to part form him. The warrior had been curiously vague about their meeting. _'We faced Vengeance and defeated him. He left, and we woke up in the real world.'_ Not much to go on really.

Out loud he asked, 'What happened to Rufus after Joy had left him? Was he very sad?'

'No,' Tulen replied seriously, 'he was angry. Especially when the seer told him what year it was. Rufus lost his temper and levelled part of Minrathous to the ground. A whole street vanished when the earth split open and swallowed every man and mouse. It was widely believed that the scion of House Lucretius had met his end that day, however he had escaped unscathed.'

'That's why I can make the Earth move.'

'Yes, and not just for your lover it seems,' Tulen quipped.

Anders ignored it and said, 'You say Rufus couldn't remember or control his power, just like me.'

'Yes, exactly like you. You see an abomination is strong but it appears a mage cured from abomination is even stronger albeit in a different way. You can't remember this but if you could ask Fenris here,' Tulen dared to clasp his hand on Fenris unresisting shoulder, 'he would confirm that Vengeance was immensely strong. Throwing ten armed warriors off a cliff was child's play to him. You did it in Llomerryn.' Anders eyes widened in shock. It wasn't just the implication that he had casually killed ten men but the matter-of-fact voice that was telling him about it. Tulen seemed completely unperturbed.

'But from what I have seen, you could easily destroy all of Felicidad without breaking a sweat,' the Qunari concluded.

'What... what happened to Rufus?' Anders asked when he found his voice again.

'He fled Minrathous in a blind panic to his family's summer residence at the foot of the High Reaches. I helped track him down as a favour to a friend. He had barricaded himself in the cellar and attempted again what he had failed to achieve five years earlier. When we finally made it into the house it had a new interior design: blood and guts. We only managed to identify Rufus because his red hair had somehow survived the atrocities the rest of his body had endured before he had expired.'

Anders suppressed the urge to wretch. Not only had he permanently lost eight years of his life, he had also turned into his own worst nightmare.

For as long as he could remember Anders had argued that mages should be free and able to control themselves because without all that fear and hatred and with proper training, mages could be happy, productive members of society like anyone else.

But through his efforts to prove he could handle himself like any other man, he had only created a worse danger to the same people whose trust he sought to gain. Maybe Fenris had been right when he had said that Anders needed to be protected even from himself.

'I can see you are upset by what I have said,' Tulen said oddly detached. 'Face the truth, Anders, we are monsters.'

TBC


	19. The Greater Good

'No,' Anders replied almost inaudible.

'Hm?' Tulen asked as if he hadn't heard him.

'I said, no!' Anders growled through clenched teeth. 'Rufus chose to use blood magic. You chose to become a tool for the nefarious plans of the Qun. But I choose to help people. I choose not to hurt but to heal. I choose to protect the ones I care about,' Anders looked at Fenris and thought, ' _Fuck you, moment_!'

The ice wave covered half the cave in a glittering, frozen blanket but in the midst of it Tulen stood in a golden barrier, shaking his head like a disappointed father. Anders cursed. In order not to plunge them all into an eternal winter, he had tried to cast the spell with as little power as possible but without his staff elemental control was shaky at best.

Luckily, Fenris had not been in the area where the spell had hit but for the first time since he had taken the Qamek, he displayed an interest in something that wasn't a direct order. The warrior turned his head and stared at the colourful display of white and gold.

Anders had no time to contemplate what it meant because Tulen dropped his barrier and like he had done before, punched Fenris in the chest with Stonefist. The white-haired elf flew through the air and landed on top of a stone table where he scattered books and relics on the floor on impact.

'No!' Anders yelled, reading another spell but Tulen shouted, 'One move and I will crush his windpipe. Have you learned nothing? And you say you want to protect the ones you love? You must really hate him then because he is getting closer to death every time you act.'

Anders screamed in frustration before he lowered his head in defeat. 'That's better. Now, let's all calm down. After all I brought you here for a reason,' Tulen said in a patronising tone.

Fenris moaned softly but when Anders made a move toward his lover, Tulen waggled his finger and said, 'He is fine. I hit him in the chest not the head. A couple of broken rips can wait. Come here, Fenris.' Tulen gestured toward the end of the cave.

Half worried, half relieved, Anders watched as Fenris attempted to get up by rolling off the table and onto his feet. He staggered for the first three steps but eventually seemed to find his balance. Wavering but not falling, the warrior walked toward the elven mage.

Anders cursed again under his breath but saw no other way than to do what their captor wanted for now. Fenris would be the one to suffer the consequences for any disobedience but maybe if he complied a little longer, he would find a way to overpower him and in the meantime at least spare the warrior further pain.

Anders slowly turned and moved to the back of the cave where Fenris and the Qunari were waiting. The strange object he had been unable to clearly see before came into full view. It was huge and menacing. The green light of the torches seemed to bend itself around the frame as if it was afraid to touch it.

'What is this? A mirror?'

'Yes, and yet so much more. This is in fact what I have recovered from the clan on Llomerryn. I brought it here at great expense but as you can see, my efforts have paid off. Not even a scratch.' Tulen sounded pleased.

Anders briefly wondered who might have helped the other mage because there was no way Tulen had hauled that thing all the way down that spiral staircase by himself, magic or no magic. That was until it occurred to him that either Qamek or fellow Qunari or both must have played a role.

Out loud he asked, 'But what is it? I can't see any reflection.'

'The elves of Arlathan called it an Eluvian.'

'What does it do?'

'I have no idea,' Tulen admitted wistfully before he changed back to his patronising tone. 'At least, not yet but in time I will. For now I am more interested in your reaction to something completely different, something in the next room.'

Anders furrowed his brow. For the first time he noticed the door that was set in the wall. It was fortified with dwarven metal bolts and a turning mechanism that required manual labour.

'Is it a surprise?' Anders asked with feint glee and wondered what kind of surprise needed to be locked up behind dwarven storm doors in a cave that could only be opened by knowing the correct spells for two different magical locks.

'You really can't tell? Oh, this is wonderful.' Tulen was visibly excited now. He seemed to be barely able to keep himself from bouncing. He ordered Fenris to open the door.

The healer watched carefully as Fenris turned the crank without showing any sign of discomfort but whether this was the result of the Qamek or whether it was indeed a sign that he hadn't been badly hurt, he couldn't say.

The intricate wheels started to turn, bolts moved and just like that the door swung open in complete silence to reveal nothing but complete darkness on the other side.

The first thing Anders noticed was the stench of rotting flesh and faeces. He coughed and tried to cover his nose with his hand but the odour was too penetrating.

'Go on in,' Tulen invited.

'What? In there? No, thank you. I like my dinner where it is, and that goes for the rest of me as well.' Anders declined.

The Qunari cocked his head and stared and then pointedly shifted his gaze to Fenris. 'Then maybe your lover will go in first.'

'No! No.' Anders cast a fleeting glance at Fenris who seemed to stare right through him but his body seemed tense like a coiled spring. 'Let me heal him and I will go in!' Anders tried to bargain.

But the other mage did not relent. 'Go inside, Anders. I have waited a very long time for this moment and my patience is wearing thin.' Something terrifying gleamed in Tulen's eyes, something that no demon or darkspawn would ever display: it was the cruelty of mortals who believed that their actions no matter how perverse or atrocious were justified because they performed them for the greater good.

With a last glance at his lover, Anders stepped over the threshold and into the darkness.

The stench shifted, twisted and became oddly familiar but no less terrifying. 'Maker's breath, darkspawn!' Anders screamed and his cry was answered by the hiss of a creature tainted with Blight. The blonde mage stumbled backwards, fell over the threshold and back into the light.

Tulen roared with laughter. 'Yes! I knew it! You had no idea!' He gasped and moved his fingers to trace a glyph in the air and immediately the torches inside the room started to burst into green flames.

A naked Hurlock sat on the floor of the other side of the room. The creature shrieked at the sudden light and tried to shield its face, making the heavy chains around its wrists clink. The same chains were tied around its ankles and neck. Heavy bolts that had been driven deep into the cave wall didn't allow it to move more than a foot in any direction. This wasn't just a room, it was a cell.

Cold sweat drenched Anders body as he still lay where he had fallen, supporting himself on his arms to stare at the darkspawn. 'I didn't feel it,' he stammered. 'Even now... why can't I feel it?'

'As I suspected, Vengeance took the taint into itself and when it left you, so did the corruption. This is so exciting, aren't you excited? I had theorised about this of course but this here,' he pointed at the Hurlock and then at Anders, 'this is empirical evidence.'

'What?' Anders stared at Tulen, eyes wide. He couldn't believe what the other had said.

'Mh. Ah, but was it the taint that corrupted Justice into Vengeance or was it as you once said to me after a little too much ale your anger that turned the spirit into a demon. Did you pervert a benevolent, just being by twisting it's purpose, or was it your filthy blood?'

'I'm no longer a Warden.?' Anders asked, completely stupefied.

Tulen kept ignoring him. 'I suspect it's the later. The former is of course more romantic, tragic, full of overinflated self-importance, in other words, very much like you. However, I have reason to believe the taint itself is responsible because the departure of the demon removed it from your body. Like a leech sucking out the poison out of an infected wound. Yes, yes, very much so.'

'Maker, I'm no longer a Warden.' The implication started to sink in as Anders climbed back on his feet. 'Fenris, I'm no longer a Warden, do you know what that means?'

Fenris still said nothing but he looked at Anders as if he was waiting for the mage to answer the question for him. 'I can grow old!' Anders exclaimed. ' _I could grow old with someone who loves me_ ,' Anders added silently in his own head, still looking at Fenris, still hoping to see a flicker of awareness in those black eyes.

'You _can_ grow old,' said Tulen, 'provided you give me what I want, that is.'

'I thought you weren't a killer, not that I had missed the threats you made to my lover's life or anything.' Anders spat back. He was so sick and tired of that guy's shit.

'I'm not,' Tulen replied calmly. 'I serve the Qun, and if that means I need to take a life than so be it. Fenris, close this door again.' The torches went out in the cell just before the door slammed shut.

'Yes, all for the greater good,' Anders said bitterly. 'You have your proof for your _research_. What else do you need?'

'A sample of your blood for starters.'

'For starters, is it? And what else?' Anders pried.

'Now then that would be telling.' Tulen smiled nastily.

Anders growled. 'I will give you anything you want but under one condition.'

'I think I know what it is, and my answer is still no.'

Anders said it anyway. 'Let Fenris go and I'll stay. You have already proven yourself against me. I can't best you. Can you really afford to keep an eye on both of us, Qamek or not, if you want to conduct more research? Please let him go and I will cooperate for as long as you want. I won't flee and I won't fight you.'

'Manipulative, aren't you?' Tulen asked rhetorically but he was worrying his lower lip, clearly contemplating Anders suggestion.

After a long, drawn out silence during which Anders held his breath, Tulen eventually said. 'Fenris, please leave us alone now. The doors open easily from this side. Go back to your house and go to sleep.'

Without hesitation or even a look in Anders' direction, Fenris walked past him and to the entrance on the other side of the cave. For the fraction of a moment Anders thought the warrior would turn to look at him but only for a fraction, and then Fenris was gone and he was alone with the crazy Qunari.

TBC


	20. Healer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is done!

_'It's better this way,'_ Anders tried to tell himself. He felt tired, drained, as if he hadn't slept in days.

'Over here, please,' Tulen said and gestured to a small stone chair a few paces away from the Eluvian. Given his exhaustion, Anders didn't mind to sit. Weary and oddly numb, he asked, 'Why did you really let Fenris go?'

Tulen grinned. 'Please take your coat off and role up your sleeve. Why? You don't think I let him go after you presented such a convincing argument.' The Qunari's voice dripped with sarcasm.

'What the heck, let's say no!' Anders quipped, equally sarcastic, while divesting himself of his coat.

Tulen retrieved a leather strap, a bowl and sharp looking dagger from a stone table. 'The short version: the Qun wastes nothing. The long version is that you were right. We have established that I am if not the more powerful than at least the more intelligent mage here. I have “ _proven myself_ ” as you put it. Had your lover stayed, sooner or later you would have done something incredibly stupid and I would have been forced to kill him. While studying his corpse would have been interesting, not to mention the profit from the lyrium in his skin, but like the Eluvian he is a riddle for another time perhaps. Here.' He handed Anders the items and stepped back.

The blonde mage didn't like what he was hearing one bit. Did Tulen plan to capture Fenris at a later date? He seemed pretty unconcerned that Fenris and Anders might be gone, or come back to settle the score. And what did that mean for his current situation?

 _'He is not going to let me go, is he?'_ Anders thought. _'He is going to keep me here until he has all the answers for his research before he is going to feed me to the Hurlock, or worse. He knows Fenris will come for me and he will be waiting for him. I need to escape, there is no other way. And I need to do it soon.'_

Anders clenched his teeth as he stared at Tulen who was looking suggestively at the items in Anders' hands.

'You want me to bleed myself for you?'

'If you don't mind. I want to ascertain that the taint is really gone. I'm sure you are curious, too.' Tulen was right, Anders did want to know but that was not why he acquiesced. The procedure would give him some time to think. He needed a plan. Tulen expected him to try a reckless escape manoeuvre so he would have to come up with something the other would never expect.

Taking his time, Anders rolled up the sleeve and tied the leather around his biceps, pulling it taut with his teeth. He made a fist and watched his vein swell before he made a small puncture. He let the leather strap go and watched as his blood pooled into the bowl. It looked like any other person's blood.

 _'My situation is desperate. I am in the hands of a sadistic and stronger force. I have no allies, no back-up and very little chance to make to out of here alive. It's just like old times!'_ Anders thought wryly.

'That's quite enough, my thanks.' Tulen said and Anders touched the wound with his healing magic, closing it without even leaving a scar while the elf took the paraphernalia away.

'Here,' Tulen pushed a cup which seemed to contain a colourless liquid into his hand after Anders had donned his coat again.

'What is this?' Anders asked, eyeing the content suspiciously and giving it a cursory sniff.

'Water,' the Qunari said patiently.

Anders held the cup at arm's length and while holding the elf's gaze emptied its contents onto the floor. Tulen just shrugged and turned his back on Anders.

 _'Now!'_ Anders thought but just when he had gotten up, a by now familiar looking golden aura surrounded him.

'You are a fucking aresehole!' Anders growled as Tulen waggled his finger without looking at him and said, 'Be a dear, and sit tight while I work.'

Anders was trapped in the holding barrier. It was different from the one the other mage had used on Fenris. More like an inverted version of the one Tulen used to protect himself. Anders could move within the golden dome, sound was muffled but audible. Trying to blast his way out of it was out of the question. He would most likely end up incinerating himself while the rest of the workshop would remain untouched.

No matter how bad things had been in the past, killing himself had never been one of the viable options. It had occurred to him of course, down in the dark with just his thoughts and that old cat for company. But he had persevered and survived and lived to run or fight another day. Knowing what he knew now, taking his own life would never be an option, it would be the same as submitting to the Qun.

 _“There is always a choice under the Qun, a very clear choice: follow your path, or die. Glory is defined and clear.”_ Tulen words were edged into Anders' memory. No, he would never submit to the Qun. He would run and if there was no more road left, he would fight until his last breath. That was the Anders' way. It was why Fenris loved him. The thought gave him strength and he swore to himself he would not let the warrior down. _'Not ever again.'_

When Anders dared to touch the barrier with his hand, he got a nasty shock and cursed. Tulen briefly turned from whatever he was doing and clicked his tongue disapprovingly before he continued with whatever tests he was performing.

Since he had little else to do, Anders walked around the dome when he saw that a corner of the strange mirror extended into the barrier. _'A weakness?'_ Anders thought. _'Odd. He is a master of barriers, this should not happen unless the object itself is charged.'_

Feigning boredom, Anders sat on the floor and twirled a few times on his bottom before he inched closer to the mirror, hoping that his body would shield from view what he intended to do.

When he was sure Tulen was busy, Anders took a closer look. He had noticed earlier that light seemed to bend around the frame and surface of the Eluvian, maybe it was the same for magical energy. The blonde mage closed his eyes and concentrated his healing magic on the mirror the same way he would try to diagnose a sick patient.

 _'Impossible!'_ Anders thought. His eyes snapped open and he automatically looked over his shoulder. Tulen was talking to him but it seemed it was just prattling about research that required no input from Anders. He would have tuned the elf out but that seemed too dangerous an option. He paid attention to the steady flow of sound rather than taking in the words. As long as there was a hum of sorts, Tulen would probably pay him no mind.

Instead of trying his magic again, Anders slowly stretched out his hand and touched the black frame of the Eluvian.

'It's alive,' Anders gasped and regretted it instantly but for once luck was on his side. The barrier seemed to have absorbed the sound because Tulen's attention was still elsewhere.

 _'That thing is alive, and it is sick. How could the elf have missed this? Surely, the second he touched it he would have noticed.'_ Anders wondered. _'Or maybe it's because I am a healer? How about it, elven relic of by-gone ages, shall I give it a go?'_

Seeing that he had nothing to lose, Anders touched the mirror again and channelled a small amount of healing magic into the object.

The world exploded in white light.

The barrier shattered around him but Anders barely noticed. He thought he heard someone scream. Tulen shouted something unintelligible. Hawke growled.

_'Hawke?'_

But even the presence of his friend couldn't draw his attention away. The Eluvian had woken up.

The surface seemed to ripple like a lake but with every wave the scenery changed: a green valley, a ruined Thaig, a misty forest, and a void. A void so deep and cold that Anders feared if he leaned forward he would plunge into an endless abyss and never hit the ground. He would whither and die and still he would be falling until his bones had crumbled to dust.

'Anders!' Fenris voice next to him pulled him back into the here and now.

'How... are you...?' Anders stammered and stared at his lover. Fenris eyes were still black but where there was nothing before, Anders could now see movement and intelligence. 'What's going on?'

Instead of waiting for an answer, Anders finally turned and looked at the scene. Hawke and Isabela, _Isabela_ , circled Tulen who predictably had engulfed himself in a protective barrier. Anders noticed with grim satisfaction that Tulen was bleeding from a stomach wound.

'I missed,' Fenris said who had followed Anders' gaze. 'The Qamek, it's making me slow.'

His lover's voice sounded sluggish as if he had to drag each word from his memory but he was talking, he was here and he must have surprised Tulen. Anders took this as a good sign for the chance of a full recovery. 'Fenris.' Anders said happily because he could. 'You came back.'

'Not leaving without you,' Fenris replied and gently touched the back of Anders' hand with the tips of his gauntlet. Butterflies flew off in all directions in Anders' stomach.

'I sincerely hope you found out what you wanted to know because I have no intention of letting this bastard get out of here alive,' Hawke called without taking her eyes of Tulen.

The Qunari's face was an ugly grimace of pain and fury.

'Don't get too close, he can probably expand and explode that thing,' Anders said but his gaze was dragged back to the Eluvian.

'But he can't keep it up forever,' Isabela drawled. 'Nice to see you again and in once piece, Anders.'

'Isabela, I'm flattered. What about your ship?' Anders asked over his shoulder.

'She is fine. You must have noticed by now that your fellow mage here is devious little nug-humper. I ran into a caravan who had left the harbour in the early hours and said they had neither seen nor heard of a fire. I got a feeling so I borrowed a raven and received the answer when I got back to Felicidad. Hawke arrived shortly after me. We followed directions to your hovel and saw you guys leave so we tracked you at some distance. We would have come in sooner but the fucking door wouldn't budge. When we had just made up our minds to try the rest of the not quite Gaatlok, Fenris appeared and let us in.'

'Your clever lover had even made sure the second door was still open,' Hawke added. 'I think Fenris knew we were there the whole time. Didn't you?'

Fenris just nodded. 'Qamek was too strong, I couldn't... but then I could leave.'

Anders smiled at his lover. So he hadn't imagined it. Fenris had been fighting the poison the whole time. He wanted to kiss him but that would need to wait. Later, definitely later.

Out loud he asked, 'And what about your sister, Hawke?'

'When I had to stop to follow the call of nature, I started to think clearly again and it occurred to me that the Bull was full of shit! And even if it were true, Bethany can handle herself. You on the other hand...'

'Thanks, Marian.' Anders replied sarcastically and then added in a sincere tone, 'And thank you, for having my back.'

'Please, call me Hawke. All my friends do.'

'Touching as this reunion is,' Tulen growled through the barrier, 'I suggest you take your friends and leave.'

'What, and miss out on the fun of feeding you your own entrails? Not a chance.' Hawke snarled.

'Well, then I'm afraid we are at an impasse because I can in fact sustain this barrier for a very, very long time.'

''Really? Fascinating. Can you also not pass out from blood loss? As a healer I'm afraid I have to tell you that hole in your gut doesn't look too good.' Anders perversely enjoyed this role reversal. Gut wounds were the worst and dying took a very, very long time.

'Oh, I have time.' Hawke grinned like a wolf.

'Hey, isn't that the same thing Merrill had?' Isabela asked with a nod toward the Eluvian.

'Yes,' Hawke confirmed.

'I'm not even going to ask who Merrill is. But do you know what this is exactly?' Anders asked, looking once more at the ever changing images.

'It's called an Eluvian. Our friend Merrill tried to restore hers with the help of a demon. It got ugly.' Hawke explained. 'This one looks different though.'

'Did you fix it?' Fenris asked slowly while looking at Anders.

'I was trying to see whether it could help me to get out of here because it penetrated his barrier although that should have been impossible. I noticed that it was sick, so I healed it and then it did this,' Anders pointed at the illuminated ripples.

Hawke glanced at the huge mirror then back to Tulen and back to the Eluvian. Fenris followed her gaze as did Anders.

'You know Merrill ended up smashing hers,' Hawke said pensively.

Isabela slowly started to grin. She was still circling the barrier with her daggers drawn, waiting for a chance to attack. 'It sure looks heavy,' she said.

Tulen frowned but it was hard to tell whether this was due to the pain or whether he was trying to figure out what was being discussed.

Fenris boldly stepped forward and around the huge frame. He squeezed himself between the mirror and the wall.

'What are you doing?' Tulen cried.

Hawke and Isabela chuckled, still circling, still waiting.

Blue light appeared, giving the Eluvian a bright aura.

'What are you doing?' Tulen shouted again as the huge frame started to inch across the floor. Anders didn't hesitate when he understood what his lover was doing.

The blonde mage gasped as he looked around the Eluvian and saw Fenris glowing brightly – every single lyrium line on his body shone. _'Oh Maker, he is beautiful!'_ Anders thought but his fascination lasted only a moment before he too began to push.

Hawke and Isabela started to howl and taunt. 'What's it going to be Tulen?'

They pushed the mirror forward until it was directly in front of the barrier.

'Last chance, Tulen. Give up, tell us what you know and we might, just might, let you live.' Hawke offered with a grin that said 'might' was indeed a very remote option here.

Tulen straightened up inside the barrier, blood had soaked his clothes and pooled around his feet. The Qunari's eyes fixed on the rippling images of the Eluvian before he said. 'Glory is defined and clear. Anaan esaam Qun!'

Fenris and Anders exchange a look before they both kicked the frame. The eluvian toppled forward and shattered into a million pieces.

**

'He is gone!' Anders cried. They had lifted the larger shards off the floor but there was no body to retrieve.

'A portal,' Fenris said.

'You think? Yes, of course! I thought it was a kind of crystal ball or a device for communication but it was much more than that, wasn't it?' Anders said, looking at the broken pieces and deep down the inquisitive mage part of himself regretted a bit that he wouldn't get a chance to look at his in greater detail.

As soon as the thought occurred, Anders shook himself. No, he was nothing like Tulen!

'You think he could have survived?' Hawke asked sharply.

'If this was indeed a portal, then it is technically possible,' both, Hawke and Fenris, growled. 'Although if the mirror hit him when it was pointing to that blackness, that void, I think being dead would be the kinder option.' Anders said pensively.

'Whatever, he was no healer, he didn't look like he had any elfroot potions on him and he passed through a forgotten magical gateway. If he isn't dead yet, he will be soon. That wound looked nasty. Well done, Fenris! Even blunted by poison, you are still the deadly weapon you were forged to be,' Isabela said proudly.

Anders cast an anxious look at Fenris, thinking the poxy pirate might have overstepped her bounds, but the warrior just responded with a courteous nod as if he had taken the comment as the compliment it apparently was meant to be. Anders decided that he had weird friends. Wonderful, crazy, beautiful friends, but very weird. And for the thousandth time in the past day he wished he could remember them the way they remembered him.

'This place stinks – let's get out of here,' Hawke commanded and turned to leave.

'Wait! There is something we need to take care of first,' Anders said and walked to the other door at end of the cave.

Fenris opened the heavy fortified cell once more and Anders said, 'Go, all of you. I'll take care of this.'

'You are no Warden,' Fenris warned as if he thought Anders might have forgotten.

Both Hawk and Isabela shot Anders a look. 'Tell you later,' Anders replied quickly. 'For now trust me, I got this. I have to do this.'

Fenris, Hawke and Isabela tried to talk at the same time but shut their mouth when Anders' hands and eyes burst into flames. 'Go!' All three turned on their heel and ran for the exit.

The blonde mage looked at the pitiful creature in the cell. 'I am a Warden no more but I am a healer and I can't stand to see anyone suffer, not if I can help it!' Anders said and released the fireball into the cell. As he had suspected, the size and heat of the spell was far more intense than he had intended. He would need to train all over again but he had time now. He had a lifetime. The Hurlock screamed and then went silent as the mage turned and walked to follow his friends.

Something shiny caught Anders' eye. It was the golden box that still sat on its velvet cloth. A silent witness to all that had transpired here tonight. _'A momentum,'_ Anders thought as he picked it up and shoved into the pocket of his coat, _'what's the harm?'_

With one last look around the workshop, Anders briefly thought how much knowledge might be hidden in all the books and scrolls before he shrugged and said, 'We can find it again if it was meant to be found.'

The roar of the flames could even be heard on top of the spiral staircase where Fenris was waiting. He visibly breathed a sigh of relief when Anders emerged out of the darkness.

Anders smiled. 'Let's go home.'

**

They made it back to their house a few hours before sunrise. They were cold and hungry and bone dead tired. The white in Fenris' eyes returned by the time they had all had a brief wash and were eating some hastily assembled meal of bread, fruit and dried meat.

Hawke and Isabela had made makeshift beds in front of the downstairs fireplace and were sound asleep by the time Anders and Fenris went upstairs.

They crawled into their bed and after a brief moment of hesitation, Anders turned over and spooned around his lover. Fenris took Anders' hand, kissed the open palm and shortly thereafter his breathing evened out.

Anders drifted off himself when he heard Fenris whisper. 'I love you,' before sleep finally claimed him.

When Anders was sure Fenris was out, he replied softly, 'I will remember that.'

They slept.

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is technically the end of Heart of the Tiger. Thank you to all my readers for sticking with this story for a year! It's a bloody novel by now and I am very proud of it. 
> 
> I am planning on writing a nsfw fan service epilogue but right now, I just want to sit back and look at it and be happy.


	21. Art Commission for Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The lovely fanart image was created by pollencount.

Art by [pollencount](http://pollencount.tumblr.com/post/133484389915/commissioned-by-the-lovely-syrenpan-for-her-story) commissioned by syrenpan


	22. Portrait of Tulen - Art by xxiau

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is how I imagine Tulen looks like. He continues to be one of my favourite OCs of all time.

Art by [xxiau](http://yoookissomuruschag.tumblr.com/tagged/art) commissioned by syrenpan


End file.
